


Duality

by wintersnow999



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Gen, Gore, I Don't Even Know, I had some ideas and went a little crazy, Literally Angst Everywhere I Don't Know What Else You Were Expecting, angst angst angst, but I threw some other stuff into this book too because, clearly, this is not completely like the book or the musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-20 19:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 42,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12440358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersnow999/pseuds/wintersnow999
Summary: "What if Jekyll was a modern teenager when he discovered Hyde?"-MeWith events adapted from the original book, the musical, and my imagination, this is how things might have gone if Henry Jekyll was a teenager living in modern-day New York.





	1. Henry

"I'm going out, Poole," Henry called into the kitchen, pulling on a jacket and shouldering his bag. Poole nodded, absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop. "If Haz asks, I'll be at the library."

Poole nodded again, sparing a brief grin up at Henry before glancing back down again. The screen illuminated his dark skin, turning it blue.

"Hang on, I'm almost done this download... D'you want company? I'll come if you want," Poole said hurriedly, starting to push his wheelchair away from the table.

"It's fine, Poole," Henry replied lightly, smiling. "I know how much you want to stay here... with your girlfriend. Oh, sorry, I meant computer. But really, is there a difference?"

Poole chuckled a little. "You only met me a week ago and you already know me too well. A'right, man. Have fun."

Henry grinned faintly, recalling the first time he had ever met the wheelchair-bound boy. He had gotten his nickname on the same day, when he had dropped his phone in the university pool. He hadn't stopped freaking out for weeks. The fact that his last name was actually Poole only added to the joke. Henry swung the door of his first-floor room open and stepped out, leaving him outside in the hallway. He inhaled deeply and set off in the direction of the library.

Henry Jekyll was eighteen years old and top of his class. He was working towards a Ph.D. in chemistry and had just transferred to a different university to study. The university had an excellent program, he reflected, but the professors were ridiculously narrow-minded. Not to mention, New York wasn't exactly a nice, crime-free town.

He turned into an alley, hoping for a shortcut, and bumped into a rather intimidating figure. He stumbled, dropping his bag.

_Stride_.

Simon Stride was a bit of a legend among the students of New York. He had gone to the same university that Henry himself now attended before dropping out and running around the city streets with his gang. Not to mention that he had taken it upon himself to make life as miserable as possible for people who were still in school. This same story had been repeated to him not only by the students, but also the professors at the New York University for Gifted Individuals, or the NYUGI.

"Hey, watch it, kid," he snapped, glaring. He was wearing a dark grey hoodie and had slicked-back black hair, like most of the other members of his little gang. His face broke into an ugly sneer and he snatched Jekyll’s bag, shaking it upside down. Henry’s books crumpled across the ground, along with his wallet. "Where ya going? Nerd Central?"

"Well, if you mean the library," Henry said carefully, "it's a perfectly decent place to-"

"Save the lecture, pretty boy," interrupted Stride, who was around twenty years old. He looked Henry up and down critically, taking in his long plaid cardigan, his too-big red t-shirt, his black sports pants and black shoes. "Though you're not all that pretty." Henry winced. He had been trying to look cool.

"Ha," Stride shot, grinning at the hurt look on Henry’s face. "Remember, kid." He gave Henry a shove, causing him to stumble backwards. "This." Another shove, this one knocking him to the ground. "Is not." A kick to the ribs, making him gasp for breath. He tried to stand, but was knocked back by someone behind him, who laughed at the look on his face. "Your city." He walked up close, prompting laughter from his friends and calls of "Get 'im, Stride!" Henry tried not to gag at the stink of Stride's breath. "It's ours. So watch your _stupid little back_!" He spat the last words with derision.

Henry grabbed his books and stuffed them back into his bag. He stood and staggered away as quickly as possible, scared and stunned. In the city where he had grown up, there had been no one like this. In fact, people had been impressed by his grades and ambitions. But here... here, things were different.

_'This is New York, Jekyll,'_ he reminded himself. _'Things aren't like home here. Remember, just like Stride told you to.'_

He reached into his bag and realized that they had taken his wallet.

***

"...And you're going to listen to him? Come on, Jek, I thought you were braver than that!" Haz patted him on the back bracingly. The blond jock who was somehow Henry's friend had bumped into him at the library and, after some persuading, convinced Henry to tell him what had happened.

"But I'm not. You know that, Haz. You know that I’m not brave as well as I know you hate your name."

"It's a dumb name, Jekky. You've got a good enough name, it's... respectable, but Hastie? _Hastie Robert Lanyon?_ " he announced, imitating a Victorian gentleman, nose in the air. "It's ridiculous. No one names their kid that. Or at least they shouldn't."

"Maybe, Haz, but now's not the time to argue over your name. I've got to get some books on--"

"The Duality of Man," Haz chorused with Henry, rolling his pale blue eyes. "Correcting all the world’s wrongs, removing evil from the human brain, _et cetera_. I've told you a hundred times, that stuff's silly. No matter how hard you try, you'll never make a person that's pure good. And besides," he added, nudging Henry, "there are some pretty nice things that are evil, if you get my meaning."

"Hastie Robert Lanyon!" admonished Henry, turning pink. Haz grinned unrepentantly.

"Welcome to university, buddy. But really, man, you could be doing so much more! You're smart and everything, you could be out there developing a cure for cancer, but no, you always come here and go through musty old books all the time. You could at least use a computer! I'm sure you could find some... conspiracy theorists or something that you can get together with."

"You know I could never do that. My work is really a book-based study. And besides, it's... well, I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who's ever looked into it. I went online back when I first got the idea, and there was nothing. Except for some ads about some sports shop downtown."

“Maybe that’s a hint to stop working on it.”

“I can’t give this up,” replied Henry stubbornly. “Getting this right could solve everything. War, poverty, crime… We would live in a perfect world. Heaven on earth.”

Haz shrugged. “Whatever you say. But I know and you know that I know that it’s never going to work. Just enjoy life as it is, Henry!”

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me and everything, Haz. But this will change the world.”

***

“What do you think of that new student? Henry?” asked Rick, raising an eyebrow and looking sideways at Gabriel.

“It’s too early to tell. But he seems nice,” replied the other boy thoughtfully, furrowing his eyebrows until his dark eyes were nearly obscured. “I might try to get to know him better, but I’m not sure.”

Rick nodded and glanced across the road at the yellowish light emanating from the basement room of the apartment building, unused for many a year. The professors had opened the room for Henry and given him a key so the new genius student could conduct whatever strange things a genius student did. Gabriel had been the previous big thing at the school, but was okay with the title being switched. Gabriel was just… cool with things. And besides, Gabe's area of expertise wasn’t chemistry like Jekyll, it was criminology. The investigation and the hunt.

Gabriel glanced back towards the lower window. “Tomorrow in Carew’s class, I suppose we'll see."


	2. Success

In the “lab”, as he liked to call the basement room, Henry was very busy. He was rearranging his ingredients again and again, desperate that it would work. He glanced down at a pile of ancient books and manuscripts before him. First, he had tried recipes taken directly from his books, which had all failed to match the descriptions provided. Next he had modified those originals with the aim of achieving that pale green colour described so perfectly, but once again nothing came from it. Now, he was just attempting more and more wild and unpredictable ideas in the faint hope of getting just the right tone.

In fact, he was so desperate that he had ordered his latest batch of a particular salt off of eBay.

When it had arrived, he was a little dismayed at first to find a lot more salt in the package than he had originally hoped for. This, he knew from experience, normally meant that the salt was probably of a substandard kind. It was, however, worth a shot.

Slowly, he mixed the ingredients together, one by one, in just the right order that he had practiced over and over again.

There. The bright red tone that came every time.

He lifted a hand and slowly poured just the right amount of salt into the mixture, hoping, praying, that this time, it would work.

As he watched, the liquid hypnotically began to swirl and darken, shade by shade. Henry tensed.

His shoulders slumped. It was turning purple.

He placed the glass container on the corner of his desk and began writing his results in his journal, just as he did every night.

_'9:27 PM. Again, the mixture has failed. I suppose I got farther, though. I never got the potion to turn purple before.’_

Henry sighed and glanced up for the briefest of moments to record precisely what kind of purple, when he froze.

It wasn’t purple anymore.

It was just the right shade of green.

***

Later, Thomas Poole said in an interview that he swore he could hear a shout of triumph one floor and fifty meters away.

***

“Hurry up, Jekyll!” yelled Poole from the kitchen. “You’re going to be late! Again!”

“Mmmmmm _mm_ mmmmMMMmmmph!” said Henry from his bed, still not really awake.

“Honestly, I’m more responsible about you than you are! Get up, you have that new class today that you were going on about for like a week! Out of bed or I’ll set your room on fire!”

“Mmmmmmm… no need to be so dramatic, you geek,” Henry mumbled. “You spend too much time on the computer."

“STOP TALKING AND COME GET FOOD!"

“He’s right, Jekky! Come get it while it’s hot!” sang Haz mockingly. “Wow! These toasted bagels look REALLY GOOD! It would be a PITY if _SOMEONE_  were to EAT THEM ALL _BEFORE_ HENRY JEKYLL CAME OUT TO GET THEM!!!"

“Fine, fine! I’m coming! Be there in a minute!’

Fifteen minutes later, Henry had finally dressed and made his way to the kitchen. Poole had already left for his advanced computer engineering class and Haz was lingering by the door, bag on shoulder, making faces.

“Did I miss the bagels?” was the first thing out of Henry’s mouth. His roommate grimaced.

“We saved one for you, but it’s cold by now, you cheesehead. Come on, you can eat it on the way. You’re going to be a doctor or a scientist or something one day, Jekkers, and you still wake up half an hour late every day. You’ve gotta up your game, man,” he encouraged as they set off, Jekyll still fumbling to put his books into his bag. The too-big red jacket he had chosen that morning was hanging off one shoulder and he was holding his bagel in his mouth. Haz shook his head. “Henry Jekyll, future _scientiste extraordinaire_ , and you look like an anime girl.”

Henry made faces.

“Honestly, Jekkeroonie, if you didn’t have me, you’d be dead meat. Hey, Danny my dude!” Haz suddenly became distracted by the appearance of one of his popular jock friends. “How ya doin’, man? I haven’t seen you in ages!… Eyyyyyyyyy! Well, I gotta get going, have fun with Guest!” He turned his attention back to Henry as Danny left. Henry gave a small wave in Danny’s direction, but Danny was out of sight before he noticed. Besides, Henry wasn’t the kind of person you noticed. Especially not when he was standing right next to Haz Lanyon, aka one of the most popular people in all of the NYUGI.

They turned into one of the many large lecture rooms in this part of the NYUGI. Haz and Henry bickered over where they would sit. Finally, as they always ended up doing, they found two unoccupied seats in the middle of the class and sat there.

The lesson passed fairly uneventfully. As always, the professor was rather narrow-minded and opinionated. As always, Henry found himself making snarky comments and corrections under his breath, occasionally causing Haz to burst out laughing. And as always, the everyone rolled their eyes and got over it. Things like this happened a lot when one was in the same room as Haz Lanyon.

 At the end, Henry and Haz were packing up when a figure leaned over from the row behind them.

“What did you think of the lecture?" asked whoever-it-was in a calm voice. Henry glanced up to recognize Gabriel Utterson, student council president, number one student, teacher's favourite, et cetera. Gabriel smiled slightly upon making eye contact, as he always did. Henry secretly admired the Chinese-American boy’s perfectly unaccented tone. Henry still had faint traces of his native London accent, despite living in America for almost a year now.

“I found the topic interesting, but the professor’s opinion influenced his speech a little too much for my tastes,” Henry replied almost automatically. He said something similar to everyone who asked, because it was true. All the professors here seemed to be biased against creativity, trying new things, or even trying unconfirmed things. Haz was the same in that way—he was constantly trying to persuade Henry against his theories.

“Interesting. I thought Professor Carew had something biased in this particular speech, too. Well, I’m sure you have other things on your mind.” He smiled. A sudden thought seemed to occur to him. “Do you want to meet up after classes? We could compare notes."

Haz made an awkward gagging noise in his throat, as though he was trying not to laugh. Henry, on the other hand, agreed. The two decided to meet up just outside Henry’s apartment, right after the classes ended. Haz politely declined (though it was clear how nerdy he thought they were) and the three of them parted for their next courses.

All throughout that day, Henry couldn’t stop thinking about his potion. It had finally succeeded! But now, he needed to test his theories. To see if this chemical mixture would work. To see if it would really, truly do what he had always dreamed it would do. But he needed a volunteer. A willing student from this very school. Someone he could monitor and study, someone who would risk their life as they knew it for his great cause.

Now, how exactly did one ask _that_ to a professor?

***

 _‘Henry seemed distracted today,’_ thought Gabriel two days later, walking along the almost-empty back streets that wound around behind most of the university buildings. _‘After he finished all his classes, he was supposed to have met up with me again, like yesterday, but he just vanished. Where could he… huh?'_

“Henry!” he called, waving the taller boy over. Henry jumped, as though he had thought he was alone.

“Gabe! Hi, um… did you want me for some reason?” he asked nervously. He was holding a handful of cue cards at his back and kept glancing behind him, as though he was trying to avoid something. Or someone.

Gabriel hesitated. It didn’t take a criminology student to tell that Henry was hiding something, and he (politely) told Henry so. Henry looked like he had been electrocuted.

“No! Of course I’m not hiding something,” exclaimed Henry loudly, his voice an octave higher than usual. His eyes were wide and he was trying to pull off a carefree smile, though it wasn’t really working for him. "I’d never hide something, That would be ridiculous. I don’t hide things. Haha! Nope. Everything I’ve ever done is completely un-secrety. No secrets! Not hiding _aaaaa_ nything at all!”

Gabriel stared at Henry. He had only known the other boy for a few days - and he could tell that when Henry’s grammar deteriorated enough to use the word “un-secrety”, something was seriously wrong. Besides, Henry was the worst liar Gabriel had ever met.

Henry sighed. “Fine, fine. If you really have to know, I’m—”

“Jekkerrrrrrrrrrrrrs!”

Henry groaned and turned around with a smile on his face, shoving his cue cards messily into his bag as he did. Haz strolled up with a group of his buddies around him, smiling broadly. He had just come from basketball practice, it seemed.

“Haz! Hi, hi. Good to see you. Well, Gabe, I’d better leave now. Sorry, Haz, I can’t stay. I’ve got to… do… something… with… Poole. Yeah. Computerry… things,” fumbled Henry wildly.

Haz rolled his eyes. Come on, Jekky, I know you hate computers. Hi, Gabe. Sorry, my boys, I’m gonna hang out with Jekky and Gabe for a while. I’ll try to join you at the Five of Spades later. See ya!” He turned his attention back to Henry and Gabriel, expression changing into a slightly more serious one. “Jekyll, I know that you’re going to try and persuade the professors to let you carry on with that ‘duality of man’ project of yours. Just give it up, dude! It’s not worth it. And besides, humans have got life perfectly fine as it is already.”

“So… what are you trying to do?” asked Gabriel, still in the dark about what was happening.

“I’’m working on a very complicated project,” Henry began quickly, trying to explain it before Haz had a chance to tell things in a less polite way. “Not for school. Essentially, I’m combining a set of chemicals that will, hopefully, remove all evil from the human mind. I know it sounds insane!” Henry continued, slightly discouraged by the quizzical look on Gabriel’s face. “But it will work, I’m sure. I just need the professors’s permission before I can test it on a willing human being.”

“You’re going to take a student from _this school_ to _experiment_  on?” asked Gabriel, slightly shocked. It might have just been his mother’s rather traditional upbringing, but that seemed… against everything that made sense. These people had a future, and if Henry’s experiment failed, one of those lives, so full of potential, would be lost. Gabriel prided himself on being a sensible human being, and this was just the opposite. He had known that Henry was a bit eccentric ever since they had compared notes that first time (Henry’s papers was one-third notes, one-third corrections on those notes and one-third doodles), but Henry was smart in his own way. But this was just…

Henry was speaking again. Gabriel jerked himself back to the real world and listened.

“…after I ask,” Henry concluded. “Do you guys want to come with me?”

Haz shrugged. “I’ll wait outside the room for you. Gabe, d’you wanna go inside and talk to the profs with Jek or stay outside and wait?”

“I’ll wait with Haz,” replied Gabriel idly, looking into the distance. _‘This will certainly be interesting.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Late again, WS?" you ask. Smacking you across the face with a chair, I smile and tell you proudly that despite the fact that this chapter is a day late, I have finally gotten something vaguely approaching a good night's sleep for the first time in a month and a half.
> 
> (yeah yeah I get it I suck at deadlines but I'll try to be on time next time)


	3. Defeat

“I’m very grateful for everyone here allowing me to come and talk to you,” Henry stated, staring out into the lecture hall full of professors who had agreed to give him audience. _'Head up. Shoulders back. Loud voice. Confidence,’_ Gabriel had advised. Henry swallowed and continued. “As you all may or may not know, my name is Henry Jekyll. I would just like to say, all your classes have been very—“

"Mr. Jekyll, if you could please proceed with your topic,” Professor Carew said sternly, mispronouncing “Jekyll” as he always did. Out of all the narrow-minded people in the teaching staff, there was almost certainly no one more narrow-minded than Danvers Carew. He was polite enough, but anything that was not solid, modern fact meant nothing to him. He was going to be the hardest to persuade, Henry knew.

“Uh, yessir. Of course. I’m sure you know that I am here today to speak with the teaching staff of this university about a very important project that I have been working on for the last little while. It is true that I only came to this school one week ago, but I have been working on my project for several months and now feel accomplished enough to put my request forwards.” Upon receiving another disapproving look from Professor Carew, Henry hurried on. “This experiment that I am talking about is one that will revolutionize life as we know it.” At this point, Henry tugged his cue cards from his bag, fumbling through them until finding the one he needed. He dropped one and hurriedly picked it up again, muttering a quick “sorry”. _Head up. Shoulders back._ “I aim to combine several chemicals in a way that will create a particular compound. This compound will, if used properly, remove evil thoughts from the human brain, making a human being purely good and with no evil will.” Henry winced internally. This whole thing was making him sound old-fashioned, with words like “good” and “evil”. It had sounded fine when he was practicing in front of the mirror in his apartment. What could he do, though?

At his words, the room had burst into low whispering. All the professors present were looking from him to Professor Carew and back. It was making Henry want to hide in his sweater. In hindsight, perhaps he should have dressed a little more formally.

As Henry had suspected, Professor Carew was the first to speak against him. “This all sounds very interesting, Mr. Jekyll, but of course it raises a huge number of questions. You have discovered a compound yet unknown to modern science? It deactivates the cordilleral ridge in the brain? In what way? Is the result permanent?” Carew fell silent and watched as Henry fumbled with his cue cards and stuttered.

“Well, Professor, ah, you see, the cordilleral ridge is less “deactivated” and more "modified”. If it had been deactivated, we would cease to work. It is somewhat impaired, in a way. The reverse to how a murderer or a madman’s brain works, you see. And it would carefully, ah, revise the workings of this part in the way a drug would, but positively, so, ah—“

The professors had begun whispering and muttering again, their volume slowly rising.

“Altogether, Mr. Jekyll,” Carew said loudly, over the voices of his colleagues, “this experiment of yours sounds feebly fanciful. If it did work, it would be widely contradicted and seen in a negative light. Some people— _most_ people—would dismiss it as a hoax. And besides, it never _would_ succeed.” The professor’s blunt words bit. Henry already felt like leaving on the spot to have a good cry, but that wasn’t an option.

“Of course, Henry, the experiment that you're conducting is already known to us. Therefore, you have something else that you want to ask.” The kinder voice belonged to Professor Guest. Henry almost sighed out loud. Had he really tried to conceal something from Taylor Guest? The forensics professor was more observant and logical than anyone else in the school. It was no wonder that he was Utterson’s favourite professor. He was an older man with thinning hair like the colour of steel and a determination that was even more so.

“Uh, yessir, that’s right. I-well, sirs, I need the school board’s permission to conduct this experiment.” Henry paused and prepared himself for the uproar that would follow his next words.

“...Henry?” prompted Guest.

“The only way that this experiment can succeed is if… if it is preformed of a human being. My request is to ask you for your permission to take a willing subject from this school and use him or her to—“

No one heard Henry’s next words. The room, as Henry had predicted, erupted. One of the professors near the back—Henry didn’t know their name—left immediately through the back. Even Guest looked stunned. And of course, Carew looked as though Henry has asked to burn the university to the ground.

“A student from _this school_ to act in an experiment that will either kill whoever is involved or ultimately fail?” Carew exclaimed, his words gouging into Henry’s confidence. “I am sorry, Mr. Jekyll,” the way he pronounced 'Jekyll' was like 'Jick-ell', “but I am afraid your request is denied.”

Henry murmured something—he couldn’t hear his own voice through the roaring in his mind—and fled.

***

“That bad, huh?"

Henry didn’t respond. For the millionth time that hour, he felt like crying. Haz patted him on the shoulder bracingly. Gabriel walked alongside them, silent.

Without a word, Henry entered the dorm building, eyes dark. Even Haz felt a little bad for the failure of his request—he had never seen Henry this dejected in the week-and-a-half that they had known each other.

“What did I expect?” asked Henry suddenly, pausing before the door to his room. He turned and looked at his friends. “I asked _Carew_ , of all people. There was no way in _hell_  that he would’ve let me.” Gabriel hid his surprise. Henry never cursed.

Haz tried to cheer Henry up. “C’mon, man, it’s not that bad. Why don’t you come to the Five of Spades tonight? You need to get this off your mind, dude.” The Five of Spades was a popular restaurant and general hangout spot on campus.

Henry didn’t even try to smile, very unlike his usual self. “No thanks, Haz. Have fun there.”

Gabriel exhaled softly. “I’m sorry, Henry, but you knew you wouldn’t succeed. What will you do now?”

“But!” Henry began to say, then stopped. _‘The potion’s ready!’_ he wanted to shout. _‘I only have to test it on someone! Someone willing, someone who knows what I’m going through, someone who could dedicate their whole life…’_

Henry didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, the faintest glint of light came into his brown eyes.

***

“11:57 P.M.,” Henry muttered out loud to himself as he wrote in his journal. “The potion is successful, and I have found the perfect test subject.” He set the notebook down on the cool white surface of the lab desk, open so he could write the next word. He lifted his pencil, but couldn’t bring himself to write that word, the one little two-letter word that would set his fate in stone. For some reason, he felt sick to his stomach.

Henry paused, placing his pencil next to his notebook, and stared down at his hands, flexing them and turning them over. After that growth spurt in—well, they called it grade eleven here—he had always been a little too tall and thin and lanky for his build. He didn’t like the way his physical appearance was now, but after the potion… would he see things differently? Would this be the last day he saw himself the same?

His brain started pouring doubts into his head. How would he explain this to the professors? To his friends? Would they still want to be around him? Henry wanted to succeed in this one experiment more than he had ever wanted to succeed in anything before, but…

His head hurt faintly.

And then, there was that drowning feeling of panic and hopelessness that came whenever he thought about his experiment. What if it didn’t work? What if he died?

 _"It_ will _work, Jekyll,’_ he told himself, just like he always did.

But maybe he would wait another night.

***

For the next week, Henry Jekyll almost never stopped stressing about his experiment. Haz brought him to the Five of Spades (and spent most of his time flirting with random people and talking about basketball), Poole played chess against him (half of the time Henry won; the other half Poole got annoyed that the game was so unrealistic and insisted on a version that contained a love triangle between the queen and two pawns) and Gabriel chatted about anything that he thought would interest and therefore distract Henry (criminology, the pros and cons of superheroes and, at one point, pets). Despite his friends’s best efforts, though, Henry continued to worry—if anything, he worried even more. With every passing day that he became closer to his friends, he pictured worse and worse consequences of his experiment. If it succeeded, would his friends no longer want to be around him?   _‘No, Henry,’_ protested part of his brain. _‘Of course they won’t. They’ll be proud of you.’_ But he was still dreading it, for some reason. It was like his mind was divided into three concentric rings. The outermost layer was the one he upheld to keep his friends from noticing that anything was wrong. He was fairly sure that they only thought he was upset from the professors’s answer. The second layer down was his excitement, how he wanted to do this more than anything. But that layer covered a tiny core of nervousness and doubt.

Gabriel was talking to him. “…definitely superior. They're so much more loyal and caring than cats... Are you all right?"

Henry blinked. “I’m fine,” he answered, too quickly.

Gabriel frowned at him and Henry turned pink, looking away.

“Henry,” Gabriel said kindly, “are you sure that you’re fine? You could always go get counseling. I know a place downtown with very kind members, maybe you could—“

“No, really,” Henry interrupted. “I’m fine. I’ll… I’ll get over it.”

“If you say so,” Gabriel muttered, not convinced.


	4. Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter in which I fill in some time and add another character.

Henry collided with someone coming the opposite way around the corner, scattering his books and knocking him sharply out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he muttered, going pink and deliberately ignoring the person to avoid being further embarrassed. He began picking up his books as quickly as possible. He was so intent on his work, in fact, that he didn’t notice the dirty looks that both Gabriel and Haz were shooting the person that he had bumped into as they helped him.

“Oh, heh, sorry,” the person said lightly. She knelt down and picked up a book daintily, handing it to Henry. He barely glanced up as he took it and slipped it back into his bag. He stood back up. “Thanks,” he added quickly, hoping that he hadn’t come across as too rude.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Emma replied. She turned to Haz and Gabriel, who were standing slightly behind Henry with rather dark looks on their faces. This in itself was rare, as Haz was almost always happy and Gabriel considered all expressions aside from those of the utmost kindness to be beneath him. Henry, however, didn’t notice.

“Well,” Emma said pointedly, “I’m sure you two have somewhere to be.”

“Two?” replied both Haz and Gabriel at the same time, looking cynical. As in, not Henry?

Emma gave them a thin glare. “Yes, you two. I can walk with Henry to our next class.”

Haz and Gabriel shared a glance. Despite the two teens’ differences, they had both had experiences with Emma that they rather didn’t want to elaborate on. One thing could be said about her—she was a completely shameless flirt.

Gabriel was the first one to walk away, cautiously, towards their next course, the only one that the two of them shared without Henry. Haz followed, looking doubtful. As soon as the two were out of sight, Haz and Gabriel looked at each other again, concernedly.

***

Henry, meanwhile, still didn’t seem to notice what Emma was trying to do. They walked side by side while Emma 'subtly' flattered him and Henry answered her questions somewhat cluelessly.

“So, Henry, how have you been finding life on campus so far?”

“It’s fairly interesting, um—did I get your name?”

“It’s Emma. Emma Carew.” Emma was quick to reply, glad to be making some progress.

“Right. Anyway, yes, the courses are reasonably useful."

Emma wasn’t really listening to his answers, only to how scientific they sounded. _‘This one’s smart_ and _hot,’_ she was thinking, and she let it show. She was awkwardly close to Henry, though he still didn’t seem to notice.

They arrived at class. Emma found a seat directly beside Henry and continued quietly pestering him all throughout the lecture. Henry tried to concentrate, but it wasn’t exactly easy when someone was hissing in your ear four seconds out of every five.

At the end of the class, Henry made his way to his room, managing at last to lose Emma after he entered the dorm building.

Upon entering his room, Henry busied himself with tidying his books and organizing papers until noticing that Gabriel, Haz and Poole were all there, staring at him.

“How did things go with Emma?” Haz asked, the second the two made eye contact.

“How did what go?” replied Henry idly.

“Things. With you and Emma,” Haz elaborated unhelpfully.

“He means,” Gabriel interrupted, “did her flirting bother you at all?”

“ _What?_ “ Henry looked up abruptly, startled. “What are you… I mean, she wasn’t… what? Was she? I… No, she wasn’t! How…?” A blush spread across his cheeks. After a moment of sputtering, he finished with, “She was _flirting_?"

Poole couldn’t resist any longer. He gave a snort of laughter and turned pink under the annoyed glares of Haz and Gabriel. He turned his wheelchair around and scooted his way out of the room, still snickering. Poole was the only one who had no experience with Emma.

“She flirts with every kid when they first enter the uni,” Gabriel clarified gently. “Just ignore her, and she’ll stop eventually.”

“Um—“ said Henry, blinking. “I just— She wants to start a _relationship_?"

“Basically,” affirmed Haz. “Don’t get into it. I was with her for a few months and it was not a good idea, I can tell you. She’s the _clingiest_ bi—“ He stopped after both Henry and Gabriel sent a glare his way. “—person.” He sighed. “I don’t get why you guys don’t like words like that.”

“Because it’s mean,” Henry explained tiredly, in the way that people do when they have had an argument too many times. “But she was— I couldn’t— You guys know I’m too busy to— you know— take care of a— a— a _girlfriend_!"

“It’s fine, Henry!” Gabriel assured, a smile curving his mouth at his friend’s comical reaction. “Just ignore her and she’ll stop, in the end.”

***

To put matters simply, Emma didn’t stop. For the next two weeks, Emma spent all her free time, and all of Henry’s, pestering him and walking with him virtually everywhere he went. Emma tole everyone they bumped into that they were a couple, while Henry hurriedly went around to everyone and told them that it wasn’t true. Many of the students understood immediately, having had experience with the overly flirtatious girl before, but some gave Henry odd looks, like they believed Emma over him.

It was nearing the end of the two weeks that Henry had given himself, though he still felt unready. Far too much time had been taken up with—or rather, trying to avoid—Emma, and he hadn’t spent as much time with his friends as he would have liked. But still, he had given himself a fortnight. That Friday, he would test his experiment on the only subject he had—himself.

 


	5. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Winter is a day late updating and Jekyll does something that really sets him apart.
> 
> (YO GUYS IT'S MY BIRTHDAY)
> 
> (anyway)

“Friday night,” Henry muttered to himself as he wrote in his journal in the lab. “11:54 PM.” He looked back a page to his last entry, trying to distract himself from the sick nervousness he felt. He scratched out the word “successful” and replaced it with “ready to use”. After another pause, he replaced “potion” with “compound”. He waited another four minutes in silence before writing the two-letter word that he had previously hesitated to, the word “me”.

The light fixture in this room was very interesting. It was smaller than the modern ones in the school’s science rooms. It was also slightly yellow and dim with old age.

_‘Stop distracting yourself, Jekyll,’_ Henry told himself.

_‘...No,’_ he replied, and wondered a little more about the light systems.

“Oh, dammit,” Henry snapped aloud, after a moment more. _‘I can’t do this.’_

Henry looked to the glass cylinder of fresh green liquid sitting on his desktop, innocent as could be. He bit his lip a little. _‘You can do it, Henry,’_ he said soothingly to himself.

Henry raised the cylinder, then hesitated. This could mean his death, he knew that well. He he thought about that ever since the night when he first decided to use the compound on himself. But really, what was there to hesitate at? If he succeeded, the world would be forever better. If he failed, well, the world would be no worse--it would only be one person less than before. And even if he did succeed and his friends stopped liking him, at least he would be free from Emma as well.

Henry licked his lips once.

Then he lifted the container to his mouth and drank.

For a moment, nothing.

  
He began to feel faintly dizzy and a little lightheaded. His scalp was prickling. He leaned against his desk for support, breathing a little rougher.

  
His breath began to come in short gasps. His heart stuttered in his chest. There was a pain in the area around his eyes. He swallowed, with difficulty, and the world unfocused around him. His skin temperature dropped. The prickling in his head grew stronger.

  
Then, abruptly, nothing except for a faint wooziness and an odd feeling in his left eye.

  
He began to straighten back up.

  
His world reeled and Henry collapsed. His sight blurred to almost nothing, choked with tears of pain. His ears were ringing so loudly that he could barely hear his own screams. He dug his hands through his hair and into his scalp, which was burning. Everything was burning. Something was drilling down through his head and through his eyes and ripping his skin down, layer by layer, and his skull was crushing his brain, and his skin was crushing his flesh, and he couldn’t think and he couldn’t breathe and _oh god he was dying—_

  
Henry Jekyll couldn't remember going unconscious. He only remembered waking up.

  
***

Henry was lying, sprawled, on his stomach on the floor. The softly humming lightbulb was hurting his head.

  
He sat up, trying not to vomit, to reach the little switch that would turn off the light and the noise that came with it.

  
He froze.

  
He looked down at his hands, horror quickly replaced by surprised interest. His arms were shorter, his skin paler. He turned them over thoughtfully, then pushed himself to his feet. The dizziness had almost entirely gone and, to his surprise, he felt better than he had had in a long time.

  
His shoes, he realized, were now too big for him. Looking down at himself, he noticed that all of his clothes, which had always been a bit loose, were now hanging off him, four sizes too large. A thought occurred to him. Surely _size_ wasn't anything to do with the duality of man?

  
Abruptly, the thought passed and Henry laughed out loud, once. His voice was coarse and deep. Why had he been so obsessed by that theory? It was useless. Haz had been right.

  
But now, even as he thought of Haz, he was disgusted. Yes, Haz had been right about the duality of man being ridiculous. He was right about how trying to make mankind pure good was weak. But Hastie Lanyon had tried to stop him entirely. And if he had listened, Henry thought with growing anger, he would never have experienced this... this feeling!

  
Henry stretched and threw back his head in a catlike way. His hair moved oddly on his scalp and he ran one hand through it interestedly. It was shorter, thicker and wilder than it had been and was now a solid, glossy black. His hair elastic was lying on the ground.

  
_Well, this is different._

  
Henry laughed again. He clicked off the lights.

  
***

  
While Henry ran up the stairs from the basement towards his room, he was thinking of everything he could do now that he couldn't before. He could be free! Memories drifted through his mind.

  
_"...not hiding anything!…"_

  
_'Hiding,'_ thought Henry. _'Hide. It isn't a bad last name… Hyde.’_

  
The self-named Hyde leaped around a corner, running down a corridor to his first-floor room. He unlocked the door and slipped in.

  
Thankfully, no one was awake—why would they be? It was past midnight—and Hyde made it into his bedroom with no incident.

For the first time, he caught a glance in a mirror.

  
Henry had rarely enjoyed looking at his appearance - he was too tall and thin, his nose was too big, his hair was too long and it looked ridiculous when he cut it, and so on - but Hyde was captivated.

  
Overall, his face didn’t look so different. He was almost a full foot shorter. His hair was black, thickly flying out over his head. His eyes were pitch-black, with no colour at all. In fact, his eyes seemed to be draining the colour out of the air around them for a moment, but then the illusion was gone.

  
Despite the similarities, however, there was something... else.

  
The potion hadn’t changed his looks so much as his expression, his mind. There was something in the way he held himself, something in the way he blinked and the way his mouth tilted and the way he stood that made him a very different person. Something… off, something that any other human wouldn’t have. Something that would make someone else flinch. Something that was so completely wrong. Something that seemed to deform him, though he couldn’t pin down what. It was subtle and indescribable, but it was something oddly sadistic, cold…

  
For a lack of a better word, evil.

  
_'I look like an Edward,'_ decided Edward Hyde, a smile tracing his face.

Hyde pawed through his—no, Henry’s—closet, looking for anything that would fit. Finally, at the back of the closet, he found a hooded black jacket that had always been too small for Henry, but fit Hyde reasonably well. All Henry’s shirts, however, hung off him like dresses.

Hyde grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and started hacking.

Two minutes later, he had a dark green T-shirt under the jacket and a pair of black pants that fit him well enough. He was moving towards the door when he remembered the window.

He ran and leaped, landing in a crouch on the ground outside. His face broke into a wide grin and he ran out into the night.


	6. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I burn some time, excited to get to the next chapter, and Henry realizes something, or appears to.

“Henry! For the millionth time, wake up!”

“JEKKIEEEEEEE! IM LEAVING WITHOUT YOUUUU!”

“Go in there and wake him up, Haz.”

“No way. Who knows what he’s doing in there. I don’t want to walk in on him if he’s, you know—“

“HASTIE ROBERT LANYON!”

“Okay, put that down! I wasn’t going to be inappropriate."

“Sure. Go on, shoo.”

“Ow! Ow! I can walk on my own, thanks!”

“I can’t. Out!”

“Ow!’

Slam.

A pause.

 

“Henry? You in there?”

 

Poole slowly swung open the door, then froze. The room was a mess. Bits of cloth were strewn across the floor, the bed, the desk, everywhere. The closet had been ransacked and its contents were spilled across the ground. And Henry was nowhere to be seen.

A note was lying on the ground. Poole bent over awkwardly and, after a few tries, retrieved it. It was wrinkled and written in pen, and the ink had bled. “I have left early today,” it read. “Yes, it is a Saturday, I know. Please tell Haz not to wait for me.” It was definitely Henry’s note—no one else wrote in that awkward, old-timey style. Poole reread it a few times out of concern, then pocketed the note and sighed, leaving the room. There was nothing else to do this Saturday—he would wait here until everybody came back.

***

Henry Jekyll was on the floor of his lab, hugging his knees and panicking.

He had indeed managed to separate good and evil. The problem was, instead of taking the evil from the good, he had taken the good from the evil. When the potion was drunk, his good apparently vanished, leaving only evil in his wake. He knew he was phrasing everything in a profoundly unprofessional manner, but he couldn’t care anymore. This new discovery was too much.

But that feeling! He had been more alive and filled with energy than he had been for… well, he didn’t know how long. It was the most wonderful sensation, a feeling like he could do anything and everything he desired.

But it wasn’t what he had wanted.

But now that he had it, he didn’t want to let it go. No matter how evil it was.

***

By the time Henry finally left his lab, it was almost mid-afternoon. He didn’t know what to do, so he drifted out of the building idly and wandered across the campus, not making eye contact with anyone.

Until a particular somebody started calling his name.

He glanced up, then quickly back down again, pretending he hadn’t. Out of all the people he hadn’t wanted to bump into today…

Emma stood just a bit too close on his right side, grinning. “ _Henry_! It’s so great to finally see you. I’ve been looking for you all day and Haz told me that you were away, so I asked Gabriel, and he said you didn’t want to be bothered (I don’t know why he thought I would be bothering you, haha!) so I went looking for Thomas, but—"

“Emma,” Henry finally forced himself to interrupt, “please, I was just going to—“

Emma interrupted him right back. “It’s fine, Henry, I won’t be intrusive.” She bumped into his shoulder, for the umpteenth time. “Don’t worry about little old me. You just look lonely, so I’ll come along.” Henry’s right eye was hurting.

“Really, Emma, I just need to—“

“Come on, Henry, I’ll just be here in the background. You don’t even have to know that I’m here.”

Inside, Henry was growling. _‘Leave me alone!’_ and _‘I don’t need you here!’_ were buzzing through his mind. On the outside, he stared straight ahead, trying his best to ignore the shorter student. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Emma’s friend, Lisa or something, approaching.

Emma suddenly fell silent. She frowned up at the tall boy’s face for a second, but Henry, uncomfortable, turned away. “Are you all right?” she asked.

‘No!’ Henry wanted to shout. ‘I’m not! For goodness' sake, just leave me alone! I don’t want you!’ But he held his tongue and avoided eye contact.

Emma, on the other hand, did manage to get a look at Henry’s eye, and she wasn’t sure of what she saw.

Lisa or Lucy or whatever-her-name-was finally caught up to the two of them and politely distracted Emma, apologizing for her friend’s “caring personality”. Lucy—that was it—shrugged and made a “go on, run, I know you want to” face at Henry, who smiled wanly back, not quite meeting her gaze. His eye was hurting again. Rubbing his eyelid, he took the opportunity to make a break for the washroom, mumbling an excuse.

Inside the dingy, too-small room, Henry leaned in front of the mirror, eyes closed, at a loss of what to do now. There was nothing to do, no reason to go anywhere. Nothing to do but go back to his room.

Or to the lab, some little voice in his head suggested. Go, make more of the chemical…

No way, he immediately thought back. He had lost his mind, doing that. What had he been thinking?

He opened his eye squintily and froze, staring into his reflection in the mirror.

His right eye was an empty, dark black. As black as when he had taken the compound, an pitch-dark hole where light entered and didn’t return from. As he watched in shock, his eye slowly started to show the glint of a reflection again, then gradually lightened to dull hazel once more.

Henry was silent. This wasn’t possible. How could it be? The potion wasn’t supposed to show any effects now that he had changed back. Just how volatile was he, now?

He breathed out slowly. His eyes were back to normal. Surely it wasn’t anything to worry about. He left the bathroom and went back to his lab, nothing else to do.


	7. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry makes a mistake.

A week had passed since the first transformation, and Henry Jekyll, slumped in his room in front of his desk, was more stressed than ever. Since the disastrous meeting with the professors, he was sure that Professor Carew was giving him more work than before, just to take his mind off of the experiment.

It wasn't working. All Henry could think of was his compound-- no, his potion. Why call it something that hid the truth? And why would people uphold facades before their true selves? It was more than his project now. This was his obsession. He didn’t deny it, he couldn’t, not while being truthful. He wanted to transform again, so badly. He could remember every sensation and every movement and every feeling of overwhelming freedom and it was wonderful, he wanted it back so badly…

But he was dangerous like that, and evil, he protested.

No, said something else, he wasn’t. It was Hyde who was evil, not Henry. Henry was protected while Hyde did whatever he wanted to do. Henry was still the same Henry he had always been. Henry Jekyll was safe.

He stood up from his desk, scattering papers everywhere. He winced internally, but walked out, drawing an odd look from Poole, and walked down the stairs toward the lab. He ran a hand across his forehead, kneading out a headache, and, as he entered his lab, began to prepare another dose of the formula as the light outside began to fade.

***

The second transformation was no less painful than the first, but oddly satisfying. Some part of him that was both Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde delighted in the pain. Hyde straightened up and changed into his clothes kept in the lab, a thrill of excitement blazing through his head, and he climbed through the high window, a twisted, malicious smile on his face.

Not even five minutes away, in the dark, little-lit back streets of New York, a group of five indistinct figures lurked within an alleyway between two crumbling, graffitied buildings. They laughed, and their voices pulled at the silence of the night. In time, they left their haunt and drifted down the side of the empty road, lit only by old, buzzing yellow streetlights.

Edward Hyde was walking in the opposite direction, reveling in the biting chill of the cold night air. He was filled with a wild, unbalanced energy that made him feel more powerfully alive than he had felt for… ever. It was a reckless feeling, one just waiting for an excuse to explode.

He was striding straight ahead, ignoring the group of silhouettes coming toward him.

The two opposing parties headed directly towards each other, on a collision course, neither turning aside to let the other pass.

Right underneath one of the feeble streetlights, Hyde and Stride clashed shoulders as they passed.

“Watch it, kid,” they both snapped at the same time, Hyde turning away to continue his venture. He had better things to do tonight.

Stride stopped walking and turned, facing Hyde’s retreating back with a scowl on his face. Hyde was about to go on when Stride decided to make things infinitely worse for himself.

“What did you just say? What’d you call me?” Stride asked, adopting the special ‘dangerous’ tone of voice he reserved for use on people that annoyed him. Like that idiot teacher’s-pet nerd a few weeks ago.

“I said what you said,” replied Hyde quietly and remarkably calmly. “ 'Watch it, kid.' ”

From Stride’s point of view, this tiny little kid had just tried to sass him. And people didn’t sass Simon Stride, no matter who.

“You turn around and face me, shorty,” he snapped. His friends jeered and backed him up, ever eager to have a new punching bag.

Hyde stopped walking. A strange feeling was bubbling strongly up through his stomach to his head, and in a moment he recognized it as anger. Henry wasn’t the kind of person who got angry easily, but this wasn’t Henry’s anger. This was beyond any anger Henry had ever felt. This was undiluted, barely controllable rage. He turned slowly, keeping his head low and his black eyes hidden.

Stride sneered. “So, ya think you’re better than me, huh? Sassin’ me?"

Hyde didn’t bother to hide his contempt. He raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “Yes."

“What’d you say?” Stride said dangerously, raising his voice.

“I _said_ , yes,” Hyde growled, narrowing his eyes. His voice, he observed, was quieter than it was while Henry, more whispery and deep.

“What? So you wanna fight on your hands?”

Hyde paused. Something faint inside him was panicking, shouting _I don’t know how, I don’t want to,_ but all at once he realized that he did. He did want a fight. The uncertain voice vanished.

“I’ll take it as yes.” Stride waved a hand sharply behind him and his friends backed up, giving him room to do his business. Hyde took two steps back and stood motionless, waiting, a cold, cracked smile carving his face.

One of Simon’s friends left. It was impossible, he thought, to stay any longer. That kid… There was something about him. The way he stood and the way he spoke, it was like… it was like he had never done it before, and it looked all wrong. Everything about him was wrong, broken, deformed. He couldn’t watch, and he never went back to Stride.

There was silence for a moment. Then, with a yell of support from the remaining three gang members, Stride launched himself towards Hyde with surprising speed and agility, grabbing for Hyde’s head to give his hair a good pull.

But Hyde wasn’t there. He flung himself to the side and jumped, bringing one fist down on the back of Stride’s neck. Stride staggered, thrown off-balance, and Hyde suddenly realized that there was something burning inside him. Some urge to… to…

Something inside him wanted to draw blood with his bare hands. He wanted to cause pain, break bones. A savage passion overtook him, and Hyde punched again and again, swinging and kicking with a fury that he didn’t know he had. He realized he was laughing, a cold, dangerous sound that broke the silence like shattering glass.

Hyde had forced Stride to the ground, facedown, with one arm twisted behind and above his back. Hyde was standing over him, holding the arm tight, at its breaking point.

“Bet… bet you’re too much of a coward to break it,” Stride spit around a mouthful of blood, making another dire mistake.

Hyde began to laugh again, the sound swelling and filling the surrounding air, draining life. Before anyone had the time to react, Hyde pulled.

There was a snapping sound and Stride screamed. Hyde kicked his foot into Stride’s spine, listening to arm bones distort and rasp as they shattered. Stride’s friends were silent in shock for a moment’s time before they reacted violently, yelling and, wisely, keeping their distance. Hyde dropped Stride’s broken arm with a brief flicker of disgust on his face and turned around slowly, flicking the black hair from his eyes with a jerk of the head. He stood strangely, in a distorted way that was just plain wrong, and his irises were pitch-black, draining the light. _“So,”_ he snarled, baring his teeth in a savage grin, _“who’s next?”_


	8. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry has to deal with the pain.

_Oh, God._

There was no air in the room. Henry couldn't feel his body.

_Oh, God._

He couldn't breathe. His mind was crushing him.

_Oh, God._

He was being eaten alive by his own thoughts.

_Oh, God._

Henry was sitting silently in his bedroom, curled into the smallest possible ball, head buried in his hands, tears streaking his face. He remembered everything. He remembered the feeling of the cracking bones, how flesh gave way under his hands, how Stride had screamed... and worst of all, how much he had enjoyed himself.

_Stop thinking about it. Stop, Jekyll. Stop. That wasn't me. It was someone else. I'm not to blame._

_But I can remember everything. It was me, no matter how different I was at the time. I did that. I caused that pain._

_But it wasn't me. It was Hyde. I'm not Hyde. Hyde isn't me._

_But he is! I made him. He is me. He's part of me._

_He's different from me now, though. He's a different part of my mind, he doesn't exist now. No evidence._

_But I hurt him! Even if he isn't me, I remember it. Somehow, we're still the same._

_It wasn't me. I remember how he hurt me, he teased me. He hates me. He deserved it._

_He didn't deserve it. I hurt him without reason. I didn't recognize him, not until after I became myself again. I'm horrible. I'm broken. I'm evil. I deserve to die._

_I don't deserve to die. I remember it, that doesn't mean it was me. Stop arguing, it wasn't me, I didn't do it. I'm safe. I'm safe I'm safe I'm safe I'm safe-_

Henry dug his hands through his hair, breathing out harshly. His fingernails were scraping his scalp, making it bleed. He didn't care.

"Henry?"

He said nothing.

"Henry, let me in. It's Gabriel."

"Leave me alone."

Silence. Another voice.

"Jekyll, what's going on? You can't hide inside your room without eating for so long. It's already past dinnertime. Poole has bagels for you."

Hide. Hyde. Henry clenched his teeth, desperately trying to stop more tears from running down his face. A bitter taste filled his mouth and be became aware that he had bitten into his tongue. He didn't care. He couldn't face someone. They would see what he had done and they would hate him.

_They can't see what I've done. I was Hyde. They can't see. Hyde will hide. I'm safe. I. Am. Safe. I. Am. Safe._

"Henry!" Poole was here now, too. "Henry, please, you have to take care of yourself. What's even going on?"

"I..." Henry couldn't go on. His voice cracked. He inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. Every breath was an effort. He forced himself to stand, forced his legs to move. He walked, so slowly, to the door and opened it.

Haz, Gabe and Poole were all there. As soon as the door opened, Haz started to come in, but Henry left, looking at no one, not speaking a word, head down, eyes heavy. Gabe was calling his name, concerned, but Henry ignored him. Ignored them all. He couldn't... he couldn't... couldn't look at any of them. He could still feel the bones breaking, he could still see the blood on his hands. He stepped out the door and began to run, the tears starting to fall.

To his lab.

Why to his lab? Why was this place, where he had transformed before, the one he returned to? Why go to the place that brought the memories back to the surface, like scars being cut open?

Because he could escape here. He had done such a brutal, bloody thing as Hyde, but as Hyde he didn't have to deal with the consequences. He pulled out his equipment, a strange apathy churning in his mind.

***

Haz, Gabe and Poole were left standing in front of an empty room. Haz silently made eye contact with the other two and left. Gabriel followed. He knew Haz wasn't going to get Henry--when Henry ignored them all so harshly, he really didn't want to be bothered--but they definitely needed to talk, preferably somewhere else. Poole looked tiredly at the retreating backs of the two, wheeled himself over to the door, closed it, then stuffed Henry's bagel into his mouth, breathing out slowly through his nose. _I'm going to bed._

***

"What should be do about him?" asked Haz, shoulders slumped. "He hasn't eaten at all today. He leaves the apartment for five or ten minutes at a time, then he's back, looking no different. To be honest, I'm getting worried, Gabe."

"So am I." Gabriel looked over his shoulder across the darkening campus, lit sporadically by streetlights, then stopped. Approaching them from behind was a faint figure, moving fairly fast. Gabriel stopped Haz with a jerk of his head underneath a streetlight and they turned, looking at the spidery silhouette that was rapidly growing.

The figure moved into the light, breathing hard, and with a feeling of relief he recognized the person as the tall, thin Professor Guest. "Gabriel! Thank goodness I found you. Hello, Hastie. Gabriel, did you see the news?"

"What news, Professor?" asked Gabriel, tensing. Haz, despite only being around Gabriel for a few weeks, already recognized this as Gabriel's 'I smell a case' face. Guest was wearing one, too, which was dangerous. Two detectives together on a case didn't precisely spell good news for someone like Haz.

Guest held up his phone. On the dim screen, an image of a mangled, unconscious body. "Simon Stride was found less than an hour ago."

"Simon Stride?" Gabriel asked incredulously. He had been evading the authorities for almost three years now, and here he was. "Arm broken? Just lying there?"

"Not just broken," Guest stated grimly. "Shattered. Someone broke that arm for him, and they broke it to cause pain. The tendons around the joint are shredded, most of the bone in the upper arm crushed, and Stride was left next to dead. The thing is, whoever-it-was that did this could have easily killed him. But he didn't, he left him alive to suffer. More horrible than anything I've ever seen before. Of course, Stride was arrested and hospitalized, but it's going to be hard to repair damage like that."

"So who are we dealing with?"

"That's just the problem. There were fingerprints, but they don't match anyone that we have on the files within the last half-century. Not the school's, not the police's, so either we have a criminal that is over sixty years old settling some sort of old score, or..."

"Or what?"

"...Or we have a new criminal on the loose. A dangerous one."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my poor, sweet child. I do hate torturing your mind like this. I know you deserve better. But if you, my dear readers, remember the original story... however is Henry going to hold up later on?


	9. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma gets annoying, Gabriel gets nervous and Lucy gets interesting.

The next day, the news was everywhere. A torturer of some kind was on campus, or near it, and had been the one to finally take down Simon Stride. People were whispering possibilities of who it might be, if it could be someone they knew, making jokes, and Henry Jekyll had not gone to classes that day.

The minute school was over, Gabriel started walking towards Henry’s apartment, determination burning. He would make sure Henry was safe, he had to. What less would a friend do? He knocked twice on Henry’s apartment door, waiting anxiously. Poole opened the door.

“Hey, Gabe. Looking for Henry?” When Gabriel nodded, Poole sighed. “He says that if anyone wants him, he’s in his lab. I don’t think he’ll let you in, though—I’ve been trying, but he just ignores me. Good luck.”

Gabriel set off down the stairs, heart heavy. Henry was hurting himself—if not physically, then mentally. And he didn’t want that to happen.

“Hey, Gabe!”

Gabriel turned to see Emma racing down the stairs after him, grinning. Lucy trailed along behind her, looking apologetic.

“Emma. Good to see you,” Gabriel replied darkly, voice dipped in sarcasm.

“Are you looking for Henry?” she asked brightly. “I’ll come with you!"

“No, I’m not,” Gabriel said, turning to go.

“Reeeeeally?” she called to his retreating back. “His workroom’s down there, isn’t it?”

He stopped. He didn’t want to lie, but he certainly didn’t want Emma bothering Henry.

“…Yes, it is,” was his hesitant answer.

“Can I come?” Emma immediately chirped. Lucy facepalmed behind her back.

“I’m sure Henry doesn’t want to be bothered, Emma. Really, I think it’s best if only I go. He does need his privacy, and I respect that.” Everything in his tone implied that Henry needed privacy from Emma specifically.

“Come on, Gabe, he’ll _love_ to see me,” Emma plowed on relentlessly, walking down the stairs and past Gabriel. “Which way?”

Gabriel facepalmed behind her back.

***

“Henry? It’s me,” Emma called through the old wooden door. A weak, yellowed light could be seen from inside, dimly lighting the old basement hallway. Emma tugged on the handle, but to no avail.

“What Emma means,” Gabriel added softly, “is that it’s _us_. Please, whatever it is, I can help.”

“What Gabe means,” Emma jabbed back, “is that _we_ can help. Come on, Henry.”

“I don’t want to talk,” came Henry’s quiet voice, easily audible through the thin door.

“Henry, please.”

A pause, then the sound of light footsteps. The door’s lock made a light snick and the door opened.

For all of Henry’s seclusion, he didn’t look as bad as he might have. He looked tired, definitely, and he had dark bags under his eyes. He was pale, as though he had been under constant stress for a while. But apart from the faint signs of wear on the normally healthy teen’s body, he looked nearly fine.

Emma walked straight in, ignoring how hesitant Henry looked. Gabriel followed her into the room, frowning.

It was a fairly decent-sized place. A long lab desk lay down the middle of the room, clean and in decent condition except for various acid stains burned into the painted wood. Low shelves lined the walls, except for one spot where a sink sat beneath a high window. Bottles and containers sat on every flat surface, and then some.

“Nice place,” Emma chirped. Lucy just had a chance to slide into the lab before Henry closed the door with a definitive click, ignoring Emma’s comment.

“Henry,” Gabriel began, “I’m worried. You’ve been avoiding everyone lately, you barely listen when anyone talks to you, and you’ve been down here every chance you get. What’s going on?”

Henry's eyes flicked around to the other two in the room. Emma was staring at him, wide-eyed, while Lucy was looking idly out of the window, as though she'd rather be somewhere else.

He exhaled slowly. “I know, and I’m sorry for making you guys worry about me. But really, there’s nothing wrong. I just… I’ve been tired. I’m sure I’ll be back to normal before the end of the week."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Henry, you’ve been saying that for days now. If you ever want to get better, you have to get out more. At the risk of sounding like Haz, you need some activity.”

“No!” Henry blurted. When Gabriel frowned a little, he blushed. “Sorry. I just… I get enough exercise. It’s fine, Gabe. I don’t need anything. I promise, I’ll be better by the end of the week.”

Gabriel breathed out slowly. “Henry, I’m worried, that’s all. If you think you’re getting enough exercise, so be it. But just… be careful. Make sure you eat.”

“I will,” Henry responded tiredly. “I promise.”

“Henry.” Emma abruptly spoke up. “Why aren’t you around anymore? I never see you outside or anything, like Gabe said,” Gabriel groaned behind Emma’s back, “but why? Are you doing some sort of big project?”

Henry bit his lip. “…No. No, not anymore. I just… I’ve been tired. It’s all right, Emma. Gabe, can you guys leave me alone for now? No offense, but I just… I need some time alone.”

 _'You’ve had nothing_ but _time alone for the last few days,'_ Gabriel wanted to say, but held his tongue and nodded. He tapped Emma on the arm and walked out, and with reluctance, Emma followed.

Henry was left in the room with Lucy, who was still gazing tiredly out the window.

“Why do you hang around her?” Henry asked abruptly. Lucy turned around with a start. Henry was staring straight at her, eyes heavy.

“She’s not a bad person, you know,” she said slowly. “She comes on a bit… strong, I know, but she has good intentions.”

Henry only looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

She blushed. “Fine, she doesn't. To be really honest, I don’t know. She’s been helpful to me in the past… I guess I just don’t want to seem ungrateful.”

“I know the feeling,” Henry said quietly. “What did she do for you?”

“It was… it was fifth grade,” Lucy said, looking at the ground. _Stop talking, Lucy, you’re pouring out your entire embarrassing story to this guy that you barely know_. “It was kinda rough. My dad died not that long before, and my entire family was in bad shape. I couldn’t wear what I used to, because I was growing, and I had siblings who needed clothes, so… I didn’t dress all that great.” _I trust him. I don’t know why._ “I had so much work to do at home, my grades were slipping… It was hard. And the other kids didn’t make it any easier.” _You can’t like him. Emma likes him._ “There was this other girl, Sarah something. She’d hit me.” _But look at him. He cares. When was the last time you found someone who really cares?_ “Emma helped me get away. She gave me little things, helped me on tests, that sort of thing. But after my mum and brothers got jobs, and I stopped needing her, she started needing me. She got clingy. I had good grades, so she expected me to help her on projects. All sorts of stuff. I just… I feel like if I stopped being her friend, I’d never be able to repay what she did for me back then. I’d be in her debt."

They were both silent for a while. Henry had turned away at some point, staring off into the distance. He blinked, shaking himself out of some reverie, and looked down, eyes sad. “I understand. I’m… I'm sorry."

“It’s fine. I guess… I guess I’m just stuck with her. At least you don’t owe her anything. You can walk away. You’re not trapped,” Lucy tried to joke. Henry smiled, just a bit.

_Maybe I can walk away from Emma, but I’m trapped more than you could ever imagine…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing those updates! Here's a longer chapter to make up for it.
> 
> SCHEDULE CHANGE: I am now updating Duality on Saturdays only. I'd love to do more updates in a week, but school is being annoying and sacrifices must be made. Thank you for your patience!


	10. Hideaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry (unwillingly) goes for a walk and plot advancement happens. Kind of. I'm trying.

“HEN-ry JEK-yll, it is TIME to MOVE!”

“What the—“

Haz kicked open Henry’s bedroom door with a thud and dragged him out by one wrist, deaf to his complaints.

“Jekkeroni, you are coming with me,” he announced. “You need fresh air. You need _exercise_ , you need to _enjoy_ yourself a little. We’re going down _town_ , baby!”

“Haz— Haz, no— Haz, stop it— I don’t— can I— will you—“ Henry tried to argue, but Haz was unrelenting. He kicked the apartment door open with one foot, putting the other in the small of Henry’s back to boot him out the door into the open air. “YO, POOLE! WE’RE GOING FOR A WALK!” Haz hollered over his shoulder before grabbing Henry by one arm and pulling him down the hall.

Once they were outside, Haz yanked Henry around so he was standing in the front. “Now, walk,” Haz ordered, prodding Henry between the shoulders with a finger. “Go. Go. Gogogogogogo. Have exercise. Have fresh air. _Mooooooove_!”

“Haz, I can’t— I just don’t want to— Listen, Haz,” Henry finally began, walking as slowly as possible, “I already get plenty of exercise.”

“ _Suuuuuuuure_ you do. You never leave your lab when you don’t have to. Come on, man, I know you. Get a move on, it’ll be easier once you’ve gotten started.”

Slowly, agonizingly, Henry was jabbed into movement down the street and, just to stop Haz from poking him, started to walk on his own. Haz drifted up besides him, a satisfied smile on his face. “Told you so.”

“I— I just— you—“ Henry gave up.

The two of them walked south, through the campus, and out into the streets of New York City. The sky was light grey, looking ready to rain. The air was dry and everything hummed with electricity.

The further they went from the campus, the older the buildings began to grow. Concrete was replaced by bricks and worn wooden roofs. Parts of the city hadn’t changed since the 1800s. Back then, fancy parties were held in upstairs ballrooms. Now, not a single person was in sight, aside from the two of them. A squirrel clattered through an empty trashcan and vanished up the old husk of a tree, outlined in stark black against the slate sky.

One of the houses, two away from the end, stuck out for more than one reason. It wasn’t even a building, really, only a gray chunk of concrete with a shabby wooden door. Haz slowed down as they passed it.

“You know,” he commented idly, “I heard that place is haunted.”

“ _Right_ ,” Henry sighed.

“No, really. Two of ‘em. People who come by here at night say there’s voices screaming at each other. Probably some old married couple, I dunno. Sounds spooky, though,” Haz replied, grinning and wiggling his fingers.

“It’s not haunted, Haz. Thought you had more common sense than that.”

“Don’t you lecture me about common sense, science boy.”

“You’re in the same program I am!"

“You’re still the science boy. I’m just in it because my parents want me to be. I’m going to star in the NBA, just you wait.”

“You’re avoiding the topic. Why do you think it’s haunted?”

“Because it is. Out of all the people I know, you’re the one that doesn’t believe me?”

Henry sighed. “Please don’t make fun of it, Haz.” _Please. It’s not a joke._

“Whatever you say. But you’re the expert in weird sciencey stuff. I totally dare you to go in there and check it out."

Henry stopped and turned to face Haz for the first time in their walk. “Are you insane? That’s breaking and entering. You can’t just—“

“It’s not breaking and entering, Jekkie. These houses have been unused for, like, the past hundred years. They’re only here because they’re historical or some crap. No one’s gonna care. A bunch of guys use some of them to chill on weekends anyway, literally no one does anything important with them."

Henry looked uncertainly up at the blank building. “I’m not sure.”

“Yo, I’m coming with you, you know,” Haz added.

Henry squinted. “Didn’t you want _me_ to go in there because I was—?”

“Shut up, loser. I wanted to go in there anyway, I just wanted some company and I wanted to interest you into going with me. You know, I thought, _'Ghosts? That’ll persuade Henry for sure.'_ But apparently, nah. Next time I want to persuade you into something, I’ll try telling you that there’s a bottle of green goo on the floor or something. Come on, man, I’m curious.” Haz started for the old door and slowly, hesitantly, Henry followed.

The door swung open with a rasping gasp of old hinges slowly rusting away.

Inside, it certainly wasn’t any fancier than it was on the outside. A set of spindly stairs at the back led to a second story, and an expansive old wooden desk rested against the back wall. Otherwise, nothing.

Haz exhaled, hands on hips. “Well, that’s kind of a letdown. I was expecting at least a carpet. Or some nice pictures.”

“Why a carpet?”

“I don’t know. I was just expecting a carpet. Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you nothing wrong.”

“Did you mean ‘ask me no questi—‘“

“Let’s check out the second floor,” Haz interrupted, walking briskly towards the set of stairs. Henry hung back.

“You coming or not?” Haz called down, halfway to the top.

“I’m staying right here,” Henry mumbled, not budging.

“Come on, Jekkers, it’s not _haunted_ ,” Haz sang, waving a hand, and reluctantly, Henry followed him up the creaking stairs.

One window shone a dull steely light on the inside of the upper story. A barren fireplace in the left wall hid, empty for a century. A wardrobe, once coated with red lacquer but turned cracked and gray with time like everything else, stood shakily against the other. The small, square window was coated in the grime of a hundred years.

“Boring,” Haz condemned the room, and strode back down the stairs, grumbling about lowered expectations. Henry stayed back, only for a moment, and in that moment he realized something, paled, and ran.

Henry knew about this house how.

_That meant Hyde did too._


	11. Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn five facts, in no particular order: one, that Henry Jekyll has really bad self-control. Two, he gets sick more easily than he likes to admit. Three, his feelings about relationships... can get complicated. Four, Gabriel is the mother of the group. And five... Lucy Harris is more complicated than she seems.

Unbeknownst to the two students, six or seven young adults skulked by the corner of the building, watching as Henry and Haz entered and exited, Haz talking animatedly, Henry biting his lip and smiling weakly.

“Reckon they took anything?” one of them whispered to another, who shook their head.

“Just some stupid kids. It is Stride's place, though. What do you think?” they asked the group at large. Their query was met by nods and cold grins.

“Next time we see ‘em, they’re going down.”

One of the members of the group, a younger woman, pushed back her hood. “Why?” Her question was generally ignored as the rest of the group talked among themselves, until the seeming leader quieted them with a wave of his hand. “What’d you say, Riss?”

The young woman, Riss, licked her lips and swallowed. “I asked why. They… din’t do nothing, did they?”

The leader leered. “Ever since Stride got taken down by that kid, he told these guys,” he gestured to four other members of the group, "to watch his place real careful while he was gone. They called me over, I brought my guys (and you, I guess), and those f***ers just broke the rules.”

Riss fell silent and watched as the two faded into the distance. “Well, Spider, you’re the boss.”

“That’s d*mn right I’m the boss,” the Spider purred, turning and slowly walking away. “We see those two, they’re dead meat. We see the kid who got Stride… he’s just plain dead.”

***

The next day, Henry, pressured by Haz, went outside again, this time joined by Gabriel. Haz proposed they walk up to the Five of Spades and back, and while he and Gabriel were bickering (“That place is disgusting!", “No it’s not, it’s really fun”), Henry heard voices around the corner steadily growing louder. The other two slowly fell silent to listen.

“…don’t want to have a beef with them, Ems… isn’t like you’d heard."

“…you said! What, do you think I’m not strong enough to hold up?”

“Listen, I just… when I don’t owe them anything, I’ll help.”

“Who gives a crap about them? Just help me. You’re the charmer, right?” Emma’s voice, for it was Emma talking, was bitter.

“I— you—“ Emma and Lucy rounded the corner and both women abruptly fell silent. After a pause that was a little too long for comfort, Haz took the opportunity to yell “WE’RE GOING TO THE FIVE OF SPADES BYYYYE!” and shove Henry and Gabriel down the street. Emma glanced at Lucy and took off after them, chirping something about her wanting to come along. Lucy hesitated, and after a moment, followed.

She hadn’t gone even three steps when a hand closed on her shoulder. “Thinking of going somewhere, Riss?”

***

Henry couldn’t stop thinking about the snippet of conversation he had overheard between Lucy and Emma. 'You’re the charmer, right?’ It was almost like… She couldn’t…

Oh no. Did Lucy like him? A blush coloured his cheeks.

But the more important question was perhaps… did he like Lucy?

Henry raised a hand to his head, feeling dizzy. Gabriel caught the motion immediately. “Henry, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine...” Henry nearly fell over. The world was tilting.

“No, you’re not. Haz, I’ll take him home. You… go do whatever.” Gabriel gently pushed Henry back towards his apartment, muttering soothingly. Haz watched them go, shrugged, and left.

***

“Make sure you sleep a lot, drink plenty of water— do you have aspirin? Poole, do you guys have aspiri— why not? Whatever, just lie down, keep yourself warm—“

“Gabe, you’re not my mother and it’s still practically summer.”

“It's October. Lots of blankets. Lots of water. Poole, make sure he sleeps. Check on him and wake him up every half hour—“

“Every half hour? It’s hard enough getting to his room once a day. There’s stuff everywhere, and god knows what’ll happen to me if I touch anything.”

“Do it. Henry’s health is more important that his papers.”

“My papers are way more important than my health, Gabe."

“Don’t listen to him, Poole. He’s delirious. If he doesn’t respond to you when you wake him up, call 911 and me—“

“Aren’t you overreacting a bit, Gabe? You’ve known the kid for maybe a month.”

“EVERYONE DESERVES HEALTHCARE, POOLE.”

“Fine, fine. Chill. I’ll do it. Now shoo.”

“MAKE SURE YOU CHECK ON HIM!!” Gabriel called as he was poked out of the apartment door by Poole. Henry, who was seated on the couch under a pile of blankets, glanced up briefly, then back down. Poole looked at him, shrugged, and wheeled his chair down to his room, grumbling.

The moment he was sure Poole was gone, Henry sat upright, shaking off the wooziness. The sun was already starting to sink— no matter what he had said before, the days were getting colder.

Henry stood shakily. He wasn’t sure whether this feeling was an illness or some sort of… Hyde-related thing, but either way, he didn’t like it.

Some trace, some touch of his consciousness protested what he wanted to do, but the rest of him wanted energy, freedom, and there was precisely one person who could give it to him. One person who also happened to be Henry himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the chapters are a lot shorter than I would have liked them. I'm kinda bogged down with school and work right now, though, so I'll try and write longer ones over the winter break and in the new year after exams, if possible.


	12. Underfoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the title is something of a pun, not to mention a dead giveaway.

**Two Weeks Afterward**

Of course he shouldn’t be up and about this late at night, what with a torturer on the loose, but Rick couldn’t sleep.

It was a very dark night. There were no clouds in the empty black-hole sky, but no stars showed through. Every old lantern in the so-called Victorian block was like a floodlight.

Rick hadn’t felt like having company that night. Normally, he would have asked a friend to accompany him— probably Gabe, as he made fairly decent company— but tonight wasn’t that kind of night. Besides, Gabe had a test to study for.

Didn't Rick also have a test coming up? Yes, but he prided himself on being a star procrastinator. He kicked a can, hands in pockets.

Rick had always liked this part of town. It was quieter and the architecture, while crumbly, was lovely and had a certain aesthetic lamp glow to it that other places didn’t have. It wasn’t a warm night, and the breath faintly puffing up in front of his face covered everything in an icy mist that heightened the effect.

As the night wore on, the silence became deafening. Rick had already decided to start heading back to campus when he heard someone.

Normally the sound of footsteps weren’t enough to make him stop and turn, but these steps were strange. Light and slightly lopsided, like something was faintly wrong in whoever was walking.

Then, another set of steps, coming away from the direction of the campus, these ones more normal. Rick squinted, and in an instant recognized the figure and huffed in annoyance. _ Emma, dang it.  _ She had noticed him. He couldn’t see the other walker.

No, he could. There they were. Someone, a dark figure coming up a side street just up ahead. Emma didn’t notice— her focus was on Rick, unfortunately.

The other person, whoever it was, collided with Emma right as the two met at the street intersection. They both froze and Emma gave a little gasp. The other walker’s hood was up, his face concealed, but Emma was bright red and beaming. Rick could hear a faint “Heeeeey…!” on Emma’s part.

Rick hesitantly took a step closer, but Emma ignored him and said something to the hooded figure, who didn’t move for a few moments. Rick just caught a glimpse of Emma’s face turning from flirty to delighted to absolutely horrified before they covered Emma’s face with one hand and shoved her backwards, hard. She took a staggering step then fell, hitting the ground with a noise as loud as a gunshot in the quiet night. Rick didn’t have the chance to cry out before the other person moved again.

As if in slow motion, they walked over her body, taking care to step on her hips, stomach, chest, and neck. They concluded with grinding the heel of their shoe deeply into her face and beginning to walk away.

Rick found his voice.

“HEY!"

They turned and revealed the most hideous face Rick had ever seen on a human being.

But then, it wasn’t. He looked like any other person, aside from the dark sneer he wore. Rick summoned his courage and continued.

“What’re you thinking, dude? That’s low! You don’t just walk over people, that’s— you—“

And he stopped.

The hooded person had given him a single look.

It was something of a mix between furious, amused, and disgusted, so disturbingly horrible that Rick stumbled in his words and shut up. Everything became colder, and he realized that he was sweating.

“You— I’m— I’m calling s— the police,” he managed lamely, and the other person actually laughed, a mirthless sound.

“Will you, now?” he asked softly.

His voice somehow brought on a fresh wave of disgust. It was quiet and deep, but at the same time so blatantly different and strange in some obscure way that Rick found himself wordless again. He felt a trace of anger in the wild mix of emotions stewing inside and grabbed it.

“Yes! You’re a criminal, you don’t deserve the right to run around like this, not after you just trampled—“ He froze, realizing that Emma was still lying on the sidewalk. “Oh,  _ dammit! _ ”

He made his way over to the curled-up, weakly groaning figure of Emma, who blinked faintly up at him. “You’ll be fine, Emma, stay awake… I’ll call the ambulance, your father, someone…”  _ Oh, for goodness’ sake, I can’t have a death on my hands! _ He looked back up angrily at the perpetrator, who stared at him calmly. “You stay here!”  _ I’m a theatre major, dammit! I’m not prepared for this! _ “Emma, can you hear me?”

“Mmmph…” she groaned. She rolled over enough to look straight up at him, and smiled weakly. It was then that Rick remembered the idle presence of the perpetrator, and cursed inwardly. He stood back up to confront the stranger who had been watching with a cold look of amusement on his face.

“Listen, you—“

“You know, if we’re going to have a conversation you can’t just keep saying ‘you’, ” he purred, spreading his arms showily. “Call me Hyde.”

“Hyde?” Rick repeated hesitantly. A gang name? Oh, a last name. “Just Hyde?”

“Just Hyde,” he agreed, rolling his shoulders. “Something you want to say?”

His insolence was infuriating. “You’ll be going to jail for this, you know. This is abuse… or something. You hurt her, and pretty damn willingly, too."

Now that Rick was forming coherent sentences again, the smile was melting off Hyde’s face. “Yes, I did.”

“You… what?”

“I did hurt her. Is that important?” Hyde’s voice was quieter now, and more dangerous. “If you have something to tell me that actually matters, get on with it."

Instead of taking the bait, Rick pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Hold on there, Emma,” he muttered to the girl lying on the ground. “Can you remember your dad’s phone number? I need it if I’m gonna get help.” Emma started reciting mumbled numbers.

“What do you want more than anything else in the entire world?”

“I— what?” Rick asked, caught off-guard. Hyde looked down at him coldly, smile gone. “If you could have anything, anything  _ at all _ , what would it be?”

“That’s— that’s completely irrelevant, you— why am I even talking to you? You just— you just—“ Rick gestured wildly, but the gears in his head were turning. What  _ did _ he want?

“Answer the question,” Hyde said icily. His voice was as quiet as before, but he might as well have shouted. Rick winced and tried to think.

“I mean… I’d like to say money, but I’m a student, what would anyone say? I— hey, where’re you going!?” For Hyde had spun on his heel, pulled a key from his pocket, and vanished into a building.

Rick hadn’t really taken notice of their surroundings before. The two of them had been left alone in front of an old grey block of Victorian architecture, less “house” and more “storage area”, which was where Hyde had fled to. Sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the more fashionable pieces all around, it might have been added years or even decades after the other structures had been finished.

It was only a moment before Hyde reappeared, something in his hand. Rick squinted. It couldn’t be…

“So…” Hyde whispered, a smile creeping back into his voice. “Are you still going to call the police?”

Rick didn’t respond for a moment.

Hyde turned and seemed about to walk back down the street, but paused. He dropped the whatever-it-was lightly from his thin fingers and disappeared, a laugh lingering behind him.

Rick hesitated, then picked it up.

A check for one hundred dollars, signed under a name he only faintly recognized.

Slowly, he lowered the phone.

***

“You know, Gabe,” Rick commented the next day, “every time I walk through here I get a bad feeling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last few chapters have been a lot shorter than I would have liked, but now that school is over for winter break I could go the whole hog with this one. Enjoy, and merry Christmas! Or whatever you celebrate!


	13. Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author got lazy and basically quoted the original novella for most of the chapter. Some cool stuff happens. The author would like you to know that it is very late at night where she is and she needs to have some slack cut. She also wishes you, the reader, a Happy New Year.

Gabriel kneaded his forehead. _ I’m too young for this, dangit. _ Out of all the irresponsible and gullible things Rick had done, this  _ really _ took the prize.

Unless he was making it up for attention-attracting purposes…?

No, he wasn’t  _ that _ creative. Outlandish, yes. Silly, very. But he wouldn’t have made up a whole story like that then tried to replace it with another, not in the way he had. What a mess. At least one of the tales he had told had to be true.

What he had said about Emma being crushed underfoot was no lie, definitely. She hadn’t come to classes for several days, then when she finally had, bruises and cuts scattered her face so thickly he hadn’t recognized her at first. People speculated that she had finally tried to get with the wrong guy, but unusually, she neither aided nor abetted any rumours.

However, Gabriel was a criminologist. In training, maybe, but odd and unusual happenings were his specialty. And he just so happened to be curious.

But strangely, it wasn’t Emma that he wanted to know about.

When Rick was recounting his story, there was something that had stuck out. Rick had been talking about how he had seen Emma stomped over, seen the perpetrator vanish into this exact building, then…

_ “I called Carew and the police, of course,” Rick was saying, smugly flapping a slim paper slip in front of Gabriel’s face, “and as a reward they gave me a hundred-dollar cheque. This one, as it happens. Pretty great, I know, right?” _

_ “Let me see that.” Gabriel grabbed the cheque as it passed by under his nose again and held it up to his face, squinting. _

_ Rick grabbed it back, but not before a slightly smudged name swam through his line of sight. _

_ Jekyll… _

_ Henry? _

_ “Are you sure you got this from the police, Rick?” _

_ “Yeah, absolutely! Why would I lie?” _

_ “If you got this from somewhere else entirely and were lying to cover up what you actually did to make yourself look better, which you definitely have been known to do,” Gabriel had deadpanned, causing Rick to flush. _

_ “Okay, well… if you don’t tell anyone…” _

_ *** _

_ “WHAT!?” _

 

Long story short, that was why he was standing outside an old grey building in the Victorian block at eleven at night, trying not to freeze his face off. Difficult, given the time of year.

He really hoped Rick was being at least somewhat reliable for once. Otherwise, standing for one-and-a-half hours in 41℉ weather was something that Rick would be hearing a lot of for the next few days.

Exactly 41℉, by the way. He had looked it up.

_ Crunch. _

_ Don’t move,  _ he thought. _ Now. Turn slooowly. Show no fear. Be confident. Play it cool. You’re not facing anyone dangerous. _

And in fact, he wasn’t. It was a raccoon.

Gabriel breathed out, a little more thankfully than he would have liked to admit. All this waiting so late at night was making him into a nervous wreck. Just listen to him! He sounded paranoid. An absolute mess.

But he couldn’t deny that he was in danger. He was here to investigate, no matter how he phrased it.

Why the heck would Henry have given a mysterious student-stomping criminal a hundred dollar cheque? There was something crazy going on here, that was sure. Not to mention it was going to be Gabriel’s big chance. A first independent case. He shouldn’t be excited, but oh, was he ever.

The raccoon fled, skittering into a nearby alleyway and vanishing from sight.

Gabriel glanced around, looking for whatever it was that had startled the little grey creature, but nothing in sight was moving, other than the almost-invisible dipping and bobbing of the leaves on distant trees. He pressed his back against the wall to the right side of the old door, trying to look nonchalant.

Checking his watch, he noticed that it was almost midnight. The darkness and silence was beginning to become suffocating.

“Looking for someone?”

Gabriel jumped, thrown into disarray from the sudden shock. When he was calm enough to think properly again, he saw that leaning right beside him to his left, not a foot away, was another person.

The hood of their sweater was up, covering their face. They barely came up to Gabriel’s shoulder, but something in the way they stood, and spoke, and everything, was odd.

At first, Gabriel thought that the stranger’s breath was fogging up in front of their face much more thickly than normal, but another glance revealed that they were holding a lit cigarette between unseen teeth. They pushed themself off the wall with a soft sigh of effort, causing a column of grey smoke to burst forth as, ignoring Gabriel, they swung around to the door and whisked a key from a pocket.

Gabriel found his vocal cords hiding somewhere in his stomach and, after a false start, began. “Who are you?”

“That’s polite of you,” they– no, he, that voice was male– commented, voice unmuffled despite the cigarette. “No greeting or anything?”

The stranger’s voice was completely normal, yet utterly chilling. Instead of wasting time trying to pinpoint the oddness, Gabriel plowed on. “I’d like to have a word with you– there must be something I can call you while we talk.”

“Oh,  _ god _ ,” he muttered, twirling the key in his fingers and turning away. “If this is about that girl, I swear–”

“No, it’s not that,” Gabriel assured a little too quickly, reaching out instinctively and almost grabbing the stranger’s arm.

He yanked back, giving a guttural, explosive hiss, teeth clenched in some mix of fear and fury. Startled into silence at the sudden outburst, Gabriel lowered his arm, eyes wide. The other person still didn’t meet his gaze.

“What is it.” His tone was cold now, all humour gone without a trace.

“My name’s Gabriel Utterson, you probably haven’t heard of me. I wanted to ask you if you knew someone called Henry Jekyll.”

The stranger paused, looking down. He used one hand to take the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing a thin stream of smoke down at the little key in his other. Finally, he spoke. “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, I do. He’s a friend of mine. If you’re looking for him, he’s got a room up at the university somewhere.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but at the same time harsh and unsettling and so much more ageless than the tiny man’s appearance.

Suddenly, he spoke up again. “How did you know about me?” he asked, taking another deep, slow breath from the cigarette.

Changing the topic a little more hurriedly than he would have liked to keep Rick out of the conversation for his own safety, Gabriel continued in another vein. “I’ll… I’ll make you a deal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Show me your face and tell me your name and, and, and I’ll tell you how I knew about you,” Gabriel invented, hoping that he would have enough time to come up with a convincing excuse.

There was a period of silence. The stranger didn’t move for a solid minute and Gabriel was getting very cold and very awkward.

“Call me Hyde.”

“Just Hyde?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Uh, no, sorry. Okay.”

And then, Hyde looked up and stared sharply into Gabriel’s eyes.

Gabriel couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second. Hyde’s stare was piercing and his eyes pitch-black, seeming to drain light from their surroundings. His skin was stark pale and somewhat thin– it almost looked like something was moving underneath the skin, writhing– but at second glance there was nothing.

“So,” Hyde said crisply, not looking away from Gabriel’s face even as Gabriel stared determinedly at the door, refusing to meet his eyes. “How did you know about me?”

“Common friends. We have common friends,” Gabriel decided, grasping at straws. The name on the cheque that Hyde had given Rick was Henry Jekyll. Hopefully he counted as a common friend.

“Like?”

“Someone called Henry Jekyll, for one–” Gabriel started, but halted as Hyde made a noise that could only be described as some savage snarl.

“He never told you,” Hyde hissed, face distorting. Gabriel’s impression of Hyde being somehow grossly deformed came back stronger than ever, then faded, then doubled, then faded again. “You’re a lot of things,  _ Gabriel _ , but a liar? I didn’t think that was one of them.”

The word hurt. “Watch it, Hyde. I can contact the authorities at any time I want, you know.”

“What, contacting them with this?” Hyde was holding a phone, a dark glare on his face.

Wait.

That was Gabriel’s phone.

“How–?” he started, voice rising, but Hyde cut him off.

“I. Don’t. _Think_. So,” he snapped coldly, dropping it.

As Gabriel scrambled for the falling phone, Hyde kicked him in the head.

White and black. Spots scattered his vision, making it impossible to see or think.

And by the time the spots were gone, so was Hyde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooooooo boy. Since you probably read the chapter summary, you know what's up. Well, happy new year, and may you find peace in this exhausting time in which people are required to socialize with you.


	14. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haz and Gabriel are the biggest shippers in New York, Henry literally gets dragged around, and we learn that Lucy has a lot more going on than meets the eye.

_ The truth is, I am exhausted. It is kind of stupid of me, I know, but I have been using HJ7 more and more often lately. It doesn’t seem to cause any lasting aftereffects aside from fatigue and aches, and the feeling is certainly addicting. However,  I am not addicted . I could stop using it whenever I wanted to, I am  absolutely sure of that. _

 

_ Knock, knock. Knock? _

“Who is it?" Henry called distractedly, closing his journal. He glanced up and craned his neck to look through the narrow window of his lab door. Lucy poked her head into view, wiggling two fingers in a little wave. A small grin-blush combo spread across Henry’s face and, accidentally dropping his pencil, he hurried over to let her in.

“Henry! Hi, Thomas told me you might be down here. Uh, Haz and Gabe wanted me to ask you if you wanted to go for a walk… but, um, if you don’t want to, uh, that’s okay too, of course.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Henry standing in the doorway, neither knowing what to say.

“Oh! Um… isn’t it supposed to be kind of dangerous, though, walking around off-campus while that that that… whoever-it-is is still out there?” Henry invented, grasping at straws. He had so much to do, lots of- of things to write… and he really, really didn’t want to see Gabe. Not after last night.

“OI!” Haz’s voice came drifting down the stairs, Haz himself soon following. “Is he coming, Lucy? Did-- Henry, there you are! Come on, you’re going for a walk.”

“‘You’re’? You mean ‘we’re’?” Henry asked cautiously. He looked around, making sure Gabe wasn’t anywhere in sight, before stepping out of the doorway and into the basement hall.

“No, I mean ‘youuuuu’. As in, you and Lucy here.”

“Wha-- Haz, I, um, I really have a lot to do, like, uh, writing things and experimenting, you know, I’m busyyYYYY--” He trailed off, dragged up the stairs by Haz.

“Lucy, see if you can convince him to enjoy himself a little. He won’t play basketball, he spends all his spare time in his room, he needs at least a little activity. Now, _go forth!_ ” he yelled, shoving them dramatically into the steadily fading sunlight. Henry staggered, catching Lucy’s hand to keep from falling. Haz crossed his arms with satisfaction, watching the back of Henry’s neck and ears turn bright red as he let go, apologizing profusely.

Gabriel walked around from the side of the building, wearing a strip of white bandage around his head and a carefully calculated poker face. “Not as... _tactful_ as I would have been, but still, effective. Nice job.”

Haz raised his left fist and the two of them fist-bumped, grinning.

***

“We won’t leave campus, will we?” asked Henry, reluctant to seem cowardly in front of Lucy but at the same time trying to avoid too long of a walk.

“Well, if you don’t want to we don’t have to, of course,” Lucy assured him.

The two of them walked in silence for a little while, Henry’s hands in his pockets. No matter if he fell off a cliff, he was _not_ going to go through that hand-grabbing thing again. That had been _mortifying_.

However, he still couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. Her dark, curly hair was pulled back into a messy braid flopping over one shoulder. An oversized, knitted maroon sweater hung down nearly to her knees. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup. He caught himself looking, turned pink, and glanced away.

“So,” Lucy suddenly commented. “What kind of stuff do you do? I mean, Gabe does criminology-” (Henry flinched, just a tiny bit, at the reminder) “-I’m pretty sure Haz’ll drop out of medicine to play basketball or something, but, um, all I know is that you want to do something… chemical-related, maybe?”

“Yeah, chemistry,” Henry confirmed. “I’m going for a Ph.D in chemistry, then a sub-degree if possible in medicine. Chem’s my highest priority right now, though.”

“Neat.”

They continued walking in silence for a while, aimlessly making their way around the campus as the sunlight faded.

“It’s getting dark,” Henry eventually mentioned, checking the time on his phone. “I’m supposed to be up early tomorrow, so I’d better start heading b-- what’s wrong?” Lucy was staring over his shoulder, looking petrified.

“Lucy? Is-- Mmmpfh!”

As he had been grabbed from behind by several figures at once and was being dragged away.

“Nicely done, Riss,” the Spider whispered in her ear from behind, making her jump. “One down. Once we get that other guy, the one who cracked Stride, we’ll owe him nothing.”

“ _You’re on school property!_ ” Lucy hissed, running after him as he strolled off, watching two of his friends drag Henry along. One of them was trying Henry's hands as they went.

“Yeah.”

“You could get all of us caught!”

“It’s not your job to tell me what to do, Riss. I plan on repaying that debt between me n’ Stride. The Spider owes no one _anything_.”

“Mmmmmmph!” Henry was yelling, or rather, trying to yell. The last thing he saw before a black piece of cloth covered his face was Lucy, looking forlorn.

***

The cloth came away after several minutes of rough dragging and annoyed voices. Henry took a deep, relieved breath of oxygen, then immediately regretted it. The air smelled like stale cigarettes, gas fumes and old rivalries. He was sitting on the ground, hands bound, in a dead-ended brick alleyway, a line of shabbily-dressed people not much older than him blocking off the only exit. With a jolt of shock, he saw Lucy standing there, slightly behind the others, conflicting emotions scripted over her features. Someone who Henry didn’t recognize was standing in front of him, wearing black clothes and a pair of dark-tinted glasses.

“So,” the stranger began, smiling rather unpleasantly. “What's your name, kid?”

_M’ not a kid,_ Henry was about to protest, but thought better of it. “...Henry.”

“Henry,” he mused, turning the word around in his mouth. “Henry. Well, Henry, do you know why you're here with us today?”

Henry stayed silent.

“Guess that's a no.” He looked behind Henry to the line of henchmen-and-women, fixing his gaze maliciously on Lucy. “You can thank Riss here for getting you here.”

“Ri-?”

“‘Riss. Harris, if ya will.”

Harris. Lucy Harris, of course. Who was she really? Henry glanced behind himself, locking eyes with her for just a second before she looked away, pale.

“Down to business. Now you see, Mr. _Henry_ , you've messed up big-time. There's a... friend of mine, name of Stride. Mean anything to you?”

There was a silence as Henry's eyes widened, hoping, praying, that he wouldn't be recognized.

“Of course it do, everyone knows Stride up at the school. Doesn't matter. See, Stride had an old place where he kept his stuff, not far from here. Somewhere where I happen to know that you've been.”

_Oh my God. No._ Of course that had to be Stride's house, that he-- that Hyde had chosen as a safehouse. He was going to be discovered, right here, right now, he would be revealed to be who he was, and Lucy would know, and--

“There's another kid who we saw going in there a couple times, too. We also happen to know that he's the same kid that cracked Stride.”

“Cracked…?” Henry whispered, confused.

“Cracked,” confirmed the stranger, smiling. He snapped his fingers, almost invisible on the weak remnants of daylight. Henry jumped. “Yeah, cracked. Out of action, whatever you wanna say.

“Anyway, we want info. Where that guy is. He's short, has black hair, I'm sure you know about it. And you know what I suspect? I suspect you're working together against Stride, for some reason or another. And I owe Stride a favour. So. Who's this guy? What does he want?”

He lowered his glasses, waiting for Henry's response.

“He doesn't have to tell you, Spider.”

The stranger- he must have been the Spider- looked up sharply, glaring at the speaker.

Who was Lucy.

She was standing defiantly forwards, scowling at the Spider. Neither of them looked away until, angrily, the Spider broke eye contact first.

“You're not gonna tell me what to do, Riss,” he growled, but in the sulky tone of a child.

“I'll say whatever I _damn well want to say_ , Basil,” snapped Lucy, taking another step in. The Spider flushed.

“What did I tell you about using my-” he started, but Lucy cut him off.

“You listen up. Let him go. Right now, on a non-talker. I'll give you one, but you let him go.”

“You already gave me three or more, Riss," the Spider growled, regaining his composure. "If it's anything, I could use one right now and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, huh?”

“Two, then.”

“Two?” The Spider scoffed. “You're willing to drop me two so I'll let this kid go? He's part of another group, that's obvious. You care enough about this _one stupid idiot-_ ” he shook Henry by the shoulder- “to drop _two_ for me? You really care about him that much?” he shook his head, tutting. “You really do have a bad habit of dropping offers too often for your own good.”

“I swear, Basil Basingstoke,” Lucy said slowly and clearly, eyes hard, “stop bothering him right here and now or I will turn you in. Every one of you. Even Timothy.” She jabbed her thumb at one of the people standing behind her, a younger man with an anxious face.

“You’d-?”

“Without a second thought,” she affirmed, glaring remorselessly.

There was several seconds of silence. Eventually, the Spider looked away.

“We're going,” he commanded, nodding brusquely to some of his friends. “Riss? That's two more.” Lucy ignored him as he walked away and knelt next to Henry, untying his hands.

“Lucy? What- who-” He looked desperately around, as though the brick walls might provide answers.

Lucy let out a soft snort of tired laughter, checking that they were alone. “That was… the first time I ever stood up to the Spider like that. The first time I stood up to anyone like that, actually.”

“You… did that for me?” Henry's questions could wait. Some weird emotion was bubbling around inside his chest, making him feel almost giddy.

Lucy was silent for a second more. “You're welcome, I guess.”

“Is there something wrong?”

She lowered her eyes, some mask falling away. She looked broken inside.

“I... sounded like my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a somewhat decent-length chapter! A little late, but worth it. I'm making it my New Year's resolution to make each chapter around 2000 words each, give or take. Happy reading!


	15. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lucy semi-accidentally dumps her entire Tragic Backstory™ onto Henry's lap.

“I first met the Spider and the rest of them four years ago,” Lucy began, eyes lowered. She carefully moved a pile of papers off Henry’s lab table and sat. “It was nighttime, and I… couldn’t be at home that night. For reasons that aren’t important anymore. My brother was with me, and…”

_ We had been crying. Timothy still was. We were in an alleyway. Voices were coming down the street, and we had hidden, but they found us. _

_ They took us with them, back to their place. When they offered us food, I was too hungry to resist. They said we owed them, but I couldn’t think much of it at the time. It was the first time either of us had eaten that day. _

_ Three months later and they found us again. Times had gotten better since that day, but we still accepted their food offer. They said we owed them twice now. _

_ It had been a year since that first meeting, and our father was gone, never to come back. I had found a job-- everything was on the way up again. That was when things started to go back down. _

_ They said they did two favors for us, so we had to repay them with two favors of our own. I started panicking, but Timothy hugged me and said he would work for them for one whole day. They laughed but took his offer. Everyone turned to look at me and before I knew what I was saying, I agreed to do the same. _

_ We did nothing illegal that day. Only running errands, delivering messages, smaller things. By the end of that day, they told us that it was only one favor that we had done, and they still wanted another one. Unfair as it was, we were both terrified. We agreed. _

_ A month later and we both thought we would never see them again. Until they showed up right in front of our house in the middle of the night. _

_ They asked me to help them shoplift. They didn’t ask Timothy, saying that he was too loud, too… uncontrolled to be trusted with such a delicate procedure. I refused and that was when they began to threaten me. I couldn’t agree to help them steal. Eventually, they gave in and told me that I now owed them two additional debts. I cried myself to sleep that night. _

_ Time passed and I never repaid my debts. Eventually, the Spider ran out of patience and told me that I now owed them so much that I had to work for them. I said no, but they told me that they saved Timothy’s and my life, and consequently, needed to repay with our lives. I told them it wasn’t fair, that I couldn’t, but they insisted again and again until I had to agree. _

_ So much had happened since that day. It began to blur and fade together, a whirlwind of painful memories and debts that I never paid.  _

_ They always found me, one way or another. They broke me down until I could never say no. I could never do anything. I just-- I just-- _

And the next thing Lucy knew, she was spilling everything. She could hardly understand the words bursting out of her own mouth as she slumped, sobbing, onto Henry, who froze awkwardly.

They remained like that for around four seconds, before Lucy straightened up, blushing redder than Henry’s sweater and trying to cover up her tears. “Sorry. I, um, I dunno what I was thinking.”

“Oh, uh, nono, it’s okay. I just, uh… you really… trust me that much?” he asked.

Sh grinned ruefully at that. “You seem like the kind of person I can trust… Jeez, that sounded kinda sappy, didn’t it?”

“It’s okay.”

They then proceeded to sit in increasingly awkward silence for several minutes.

“Hey,” Henry said suddenly. “Just so you know, if- if you ever need anything, you know where I’ll be.”

“Here, probably,” Lucy said dryly, smiling. “Yeah, I know. That’s really nice of you, actually. People normally don’t care enough for that.”

“Ouch.”

“Heh… you kind of get used to it after a while. Thanks, though.” She slid off the desk, dusting off her knees. “Does it look like I was crying?”

“Not really. It’s pretty dark, too, I don’t think anyone’ll- Oh, it’s probably already after the curfew. Do you think-”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Lucy assured him. “I’ve done plenty of running around after curfew before. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she added hurriedly, glancing over.

“‘Course not. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks. Anyway, yeah, I’ll be good. There’s this network of alleys that link behind most of the older buildings around here and as long as I stick to those, I’m safe. Makes me feel a little silly sometimes, though. Like a fugitive.” She shrugged. “Thanks again. I’ll text you sometime.”

And with that, she was gone.

Henry didn’t do anything for a few moments, staring into the middle distance thoughtfully. Then a single realization swept his mind and he froze.

A network of alleys connecting behind the buildings around the school?

_ Oh, crap. _

***

“Haz,” Henry announced, bursting into the apartment, “I have something to ask.”

“How illegal is it?”

“Probably not very. Possibly a little. Depends on how you get it.”

“Okay, I was… honestly not expecting that. What do you need?”

“…Put it like this, what’s the fastest way to get someone drunk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that I've slightly changed the tags in preparation for some upcoming events (and, admittedly, because I should have added them a long time ago but never got around to it). Happy reading!


	16. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel behind to fit together the first of many puzzle pieces and Henry returns to the drawing board.

Not long after, Haz whisked back into the apartment, holding a bottle. “Hope you enjoy this. It’s pretty pricey stuff. I risked my life for it.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. Danny from downstairs owed me one.” He tossed himself onto the couch next to Poole, making him jump, and grinned. “So. Whaddya need it for?” Henry didn’t reply, choosing to instead make his way over to one of the kitchen cupboards.

“...Henry, what are you- Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare, Jekyll- are you-?” Henry calmly ignored him, pulling a straw out of a small cardboard box. “Henry Jekyll, I swear, if you start-” He popped the cap off and sat on the couch, sticking the orange plastic straw into the bottle.

“ _ God _ , Jek, how old are you?” Haz groaned, looking away in mock disgust. “There are a lot of ways to drink alcohol, and that is… literally none of them.” 

“I’m just trying something.”

“Trying what? Trying to murder me?”

Henry grimaced. “Don’t joke about it, Haz.” He took a sip and coughed. “This tastes like crap.”

“Yeah, but it’s expensive crap.”

“How much does it take for someone to get drunk?”

“Why…? Jekyll, don’t tell me you’ve literally never gotten drunk before.”

“I’ve literally never-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Haz kicked his feet into Henry’s lap and exhaled loosely through his mouth. “If you really don’t like it, I’ll have it back.”

“You know that thing in the movies where the people drink too much then go unconscious then forget everything from the last little while? Does that work?” Henry asked, ignoring him again.

“Um, very definitely not. Especially if whatever you want to forget is before you start drinking. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ll ever get anywhere if you don’t know any of this. Is that all?” Haz rolled his eyes. “All this trouble I went through getting this, and you only wanted to try something stupid like that?”

“I’m… kind of sort of a little desperate,” Henry said uncomfortably, pushing Haz’s legs off him.

     “Whaaaaat? Are you having  _ giiiiirl proooblems? _ ” Haz sang jokingly, poking Henry in the side. Henry blushed. “Maybe.”

     “Daaang. I mean, sure, maybe your takeoff with Lucy wasn’t  _ the _ smoothest thing, but trying to completely scrub your memory after what, the second day? That’s a bit…”

     “Shut up.”

     “I mean, even Gabe’s been in a relationship longer than that, and we all know Emma doesn’t count as a relationship.” Haz glanced at Poole. “Well, most of us know.” Poole reached over to smack him and Haz leaned out of the way, snorting with laughter.

     “Well, this isn’t going to help me much, then.” Henry handed the bottle back to Haz, who rolled his eyes and got up to put it… somewhere. Since their shared apartment didn’t technically belong to the NYUGI, there were no official alcohol checks, but it never hurt to be safe, as Haz put it.

     There was a frantic knock on the door and Gabriel burst in, breathing hard. His hair was messy, his glasses forgotten somewhere and his eyes wild. “I’ve got it. I have freaking GOT it!”

     “Ever wait for someone to open the door first?” Poole asked, taking off his headphones. “Dude, what’s going on?”

     “Hard… to… explain,” the other student gasped, slumping against the kitchen table. “A few nights ago- remember how I got this?” He pointed at a large red mark across half his forehead. Henry looked nervously in the other direction.

     “Yeah,” Haz commented, returning to the room. “You said you were… interviewing someone or something?”

     “Basically, that’s it. Thing is, I think I’ve made a connection between… between the Stride case and Emma’s. Get this- it’s the same person!”

     Haz raised an eyebrow, Poole put on his headphones, and Henry went white.

     “I know- I know I sound crazy, but it’s the only possible solution! I can’t believe I didn’t realize this before. I mean, you can’t just have  _ two _ sadistic mad-people on the loose at the same time, right?”

     “Gabe, dude,” said Poole carefully, “when was the last time you slept?”

     “ _ I have been living on coffee and crime cases for the last ninety-six hours! _ ” Gabriel yelled, flapping his hands. Poole winced and shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, pal.”

     Henry was trying not to hyperventilate. “Um, Gabe… what exactly does this whole case… thing… mean to you?”

     “Everything,” Gabriel said seriously, staring Henry dead in the eyes. A moment passed, and the black-haired student abruptly burst out laughing. “‘Course not. It does mean a lot, though. I’ll be showing Professor Guest what I’ve gathered so far, then if I’m lucky I can select this case as my summative project, and depending on my success it’ll be a certain determining factor in my--” He froze. “Crap. What time is it?”

     “Pretty late,” Poole commented. He checked his computer. “Uh, 10:4--”

     “ _Crap_!” Gabe yelled, barrelling for the door. “I’mlateIhavetogoseeyaaa!!” His voice faded into the distance even before the sentence was fully out of his mouth. Haz glanced at his roommates and shrugged. “Criminology kids. What can ya do?”

     “Yeah, I guess,” Henry muttered, frowning. He knew very well how observant Gabriel could be, and now that he had started putting things together, things would be harder. He’d have to be careful.

     That only led to a host of other questions. How long could he go? How controllable, or uncontrollable, was he? Could the potency of the potion be changed? What were Hyde’s full capabilities?

     Henry stood up suddenly, starting for the door. “I’ll be in my lab if you need me.”

     “Henry, it’s already past the curfew and Gabe doesn’t want you moving around too much while you’re sick…” Poole started, but Henry waved him off. “Did you see him? Gabe’s more of a mess than I am right now. If there’s one thing he’s not going to care about, it’s me. I have something important to do.” He grabbed the nearest sweater and was out the door in another moment.

     It closed with a rather definitive click, and Haz and Poole looked at each other.

     “Do you still have that bottle?” Poole asked innocently.

***

     As soon as Henry entered his lab and locked the door, he was sorting through stacks of papers, grabbing packages, scanning shelves. He had a lot to do tonight.

     A jar off this shelf. A tray of vials from this cabinet. All these papers, and this one too. He scooped up his journal and a pen, scribbling frantically.

_      I have had the formula perfected for several weeks. Tonight, I begin experimenting again. I need to find out the very limits of what Hyde is capable of, and what I can do with him. Or to him, if need be.  _ He paused, chewing the pen cap.

     A thought occurred to him, crazy and far-fetched. It was an idea, though, and he couldn’t believe that the idea had never occurred to him before. He tugged a piece of paper free from the journal and started writing.

_      In the event of the death or disappearance of Henry Jekyll for more than three months, all his possessions shall be given to a certain Mr. Edward Hyde… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh-heh... did I say something about having longer chapters? Well, school's a thing, so if I get up to 1200 I'll count myself accomplished. Oh, well... Enjoy!


	17. Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Gabriel talk legalities, and Henry does another stupid thing. Again.

     The next day, sometime in the evening, there was another knock at the apartment door. “Hang on!” Poole yelled, pocketing his phone and scrambling to wheel himself over.

     “It’s all right, Poole, gimme a sec,” Gabriel called back, and let himself in. He looked as though he had had a good night of sleep since the last time the two had met. “Hi. Have you seen Henry?”

     “Not since last night, just after you left.” The wheelchair-bound student shrugged and returned to his phone. “You can wait here until he comes back, if you want.”

     “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll go check in his lab.” Gabriel waved two fingers and left again.

     On the walk to the laboratory, Gabriel couldn’t stop thinking about Hyde. He couldn’t prove that it was also Hyde that had injured Stride, but it was the only possibility. If only Mr. Guest could see it too.

     He rapped twice on the door. “Henry? You in there? It’s me.”

     “Um… can it wait?” Henry said hesitantly. “I’m kind of… Actually, you know what? Come in.” There was the faint sound of footsteps and the door opened.

     Henry looked exhausted. There were dark rings under his eyes, his hair was a mess, but he appeared content. “Hey.”

     “Can we talk?” Gabriel asked, cutting straight to the chase.

     “...Sure, I guess,” the other student responded, looking concerned. He moved aside, letting Gabriel enter the lab. “Is something up?”

     Gabriel gave a non-committal humming noise, looking around. Henry had really been working. Bottles and papers were scattered everywhere, plates covered with test samples littered every flat surface (and then some), Bunsen burners were smoldering, and a huge old book rested on a lab stool. Henry blushed and grabbed it, stuffing it onto a shelf with a collection of other similar tomes. "You can sit down if you want. It’s a bit messy, hope you don’t mind. Uhh…” He sorted through a large blue notebook, muttering to himself. “Right. I need you to take a look at this. Just in case I made some weird legal error.” He pulled out a piece of paper with somewhat messy pencil handwriting covering it, front and back. “Does this make sense? I need to make sure before I send it to Guest.”

     Gabriel looked at it. Henry’s handwriting was far from neat, but… 

     “Henry, is this a will?”

     “Yeah, actually, it is.” He shrugged. “I, uh, I know it must seem kinda paranoid to you, but you know, in what I do, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

     Squinting closer, Gabriel could make out a little more information. Bits of standard stuff and legal terms were thrown around like a four-year-old would throw around a new vocabulary word.

     “Hm. From what I can read-” Henry blushed sheepishly- “it seems to be all good. The core stuff is all here. I just can’t make out this word here.” He pointed. “Hayden, or Halley, or?”

    “Oh. Um. It actually says Hyde. H-Y-D-E.”

     “Hyde…?”

     Hyde had given Rick a cheque with Henry’s name on it. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Gabriel swallowed. 

     “...Gabe? Are you alright?” Henry asked nervously, waving a hand in front of the shorter student’s face.

     Gabriel blinked. “Uh, yes. I’m fine. All good. This seems to make sense and everything, I just… This Hyde guy, there’s something I haven’t told you.”

     “There… is?” Henry suddenly looked pale for some reason.

     “I met Hyde a few nights ago. You know he’s the guy who injured Emma, right?”

     Henry paused. “Yes, you told me that.”

     “I’m just concerned, that’s all. You want to leave  _ all _ your experiment stuff to him?”

     “Yes, I do. It’s really important.” Henry looked uncomfortable. “He’s a… friend who helps me with my projects. If anything happens to me, I just want him to be able to continue where I left off.”

     Gabriel said nothing. This still wasn’t right. He glanced over the will again. “Death or disappearance? Why disappearance?”

     “Just a precaution, that’s all,” Henry said awkwardly.

     “He trampled someone, Henry! That’s _pretty_ bad,” Gabriel noticed sarcastically. He put the will on the desk and began to pace. “If this guy’s blackmailing you, you’d better report it. Sure, we don’t have any set incriminating evidence against him, and what he did to Emma wasn’t  _ technically _ illegal (only really stupid), but if he’s doing something to you, that’s the evidence we need to put him in jail-”

     “Gabe, please. It’s not any of that. Why do you hate him so much?” Henry tried.

     “I met him, you know that, right? I talked to him and everything, and I don’t understand how on earth you want to associate with him. He’s the- the-” Gabriel came to a stop. “I can’t pin it down. There’s something off with him, I just can’t-”

     There really were no words to describe Hyde. There was just something in him that disgusted Gabriel beyond all imagining, he just couldn’t find the words. Henry looked skeptical.

     “So you just hate him for the sake of hating him?”

     “No no no, that’s not it! I just don’t trust him, Henry.”

     “You don’t have to trust him. Just- If I can’t continue my experiments for some reason, bear with him, will you? I know you talked to him, he told me that, but you know my work’s important to me. I just want to make sure it can be continued.” Henry’s voice was pleading.

     “You’re talking like you expect to die,” Gabriel said hesitantly. Henry sighed.

     “Let’s not talk about this. Just… Bring it to Guest, tell him it’s as a precaution only, and leave it at that.” He gathered a sheaf of papers and put them on top of another pile, then made an indescribable squeaking noise and turned off one of the Bunsen burners, which had begun to smoke.

     “Actually,” Gabriel said thoughtfully, “could I keep it for a while? I just need to look over it for a while. I’ll keep it safe, I promise,” he added hurriedly, noting the worried look on the other student’s face. Henry slowly nodded, looking worried.

     “Well… see you,” he eventually mumbled, turning away to write something down. Gabriel left the room, rereading the contents of Henry’s very strange will.

_      As interesting and beneficial that my new attempts have been,  _ Henry wrote,  _ they do not appear to have any influence over Edward’s abilities. Tonight I test my newest attempt. Though he never listens, I have to remember to try and test what I can do as Hyde.  _ He placed his pencil delicately between the journal pages and closed it, setting it aside to make room for the small graduated cylinder of still-smoking chemical that he pulled off the nearest burner. He waited a moment to let it cool, then, inspecting it briefly for impurities, drank.

     As Edward Hyde got to his feet that night, there seemed nothing wrong. It was Henry Jekyll in the morning who would regret everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm going through a rough time with everything right now, updates might be a little more disorganized than normal. You might start seeing updates the day after they were supposed to be up, small things like that. I can't thank y'all enough for sticking with this mess of a book through everything, though, and happy reading!


	18. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \--TW: blood, implied assault, mild gore, descriptions of wounds, drunkenness, implied stalker behaviour--  
> If you don't think you can read this chapter, skip to the notes at the bottom- I'll leave a more detailed chapter summary so nothing is missed.  
> * * *  
> Lucy and Henry have a... rather interesting... meeting.

     Two days passed without event. Henry’s life continued as it had for the last few weeks: a docile, well-liked student of a good university in the daytime and an entirely different person at night. Edward did whatever he liked, shamelessly and recklessly.

     Which actually wasn’t a problem. In fact, Henry _liked_ it. Edward was apparently never out of energy, yet never left Henry tired. His nighttime trips were everything, from refreshing to exhilarating. On that particular morning, however, Henry couldn’t remember what he had done.

     This wasn’t as uncommon as it might have seemed. Edward (as Henry recalled with embarrassment) would occasionally drink, and as much fun he had on those nights, dealing with the consequences _really_ took a toll on him.

     For instance, that slow, bleary Saturday morning, Henry Jekyll didn’t get out of bed until far after everyone else had left, just because he lacked the energy to do anything. Apparently he did not tolerate alcohol well in the slightest. Obviously, however, this did not in any way discourage Hyde.

     His phone, sitting insolently on his desk, buzzed. Henry made an annoyed noise back at it and turned around, trying to ignore the small glass-and-metal box, but ultimately, curiosity won over and he begrudgingly dragged himself over to check.

_Two (2) new messages_

     He tapped on it.

_Unknown number-- Hey henry its lucy I was wondering if you had some time this aftwrnoon to chat_

_\-- *Afternoon sorry_

     Henry grinned, a little involuntarily, and sent a reply of _Sure, where?_

     A few seconds elapsed, then Henry got bored of waiting and went back to bed, wisely deciding to bring his phone in case of replies so he didn’t have to stand up again.

_Buzz._

_One (1) new message_

_Lucy-- Your lab would be cool if you’re ok with that, 3:30?_

_Me-- Sounds good_

     Conversation concluded, Henry went back to sleep.

***

     Forty-five minutes later, Henry was sitting in his lab room, alone, still trying not to nod off. It was weird, to be honest-- he normally wasn’t this tired after going out at night.

     There was a knock on the door and Lucy looked through the window, smiling faintly. Henry let her in and she sat on the desk, looking almost as tired as Henry felt. “Hey.” She was wearing a heavy, oversized grey zip-up sweater and black jeans.

     “Hi.” There was a few seconds of silence, in which both students looked interestedly in opposite directions, before Lucy spoke up. “I know it’s a bit awkward of me to ask, but do you know any medical stuff? Nothing super advanced,” she added hurriedly, “just, like, basic first-aid stuff.”

     “I mean, it’s not my major or anything, but yeah, I know some stuff. Why?”

     In answer, Lucy started to unzip her sweater, letting it hang off her shoulders. Henry turned pink and mumbled something, looking away, and Lucy gave a small snort. “I’m not stripping, you idiot.”

     “I- well, I knew _that_ ,” Henry, who did not know that, muttered sheepishly. Lucy had half-opened her sweater, pulling the back (and only the back, thankfully) of her loose shirt down.

     She twisted around and Henry gasped.

     A long, half-healed red scab ran diagonally across Lucy’s shoulder blades and upper back, the surrounding skin mutilated and caked with dried blood. Henry covered his mouth. “Oh my God, what happened?”

     Lucy smiled bitterly. “I had an… eventful night.” Her head started to drop from exhaustion and she almost fell off the desk. Tired sarcasm laced her voice as she added, “Yeah, help would be great, thanks for asking.”

     “Oh, no. I- I’m so sorry. Do you-?” The taller student looked around frantically, talking to himself. “Antiseptic. I need… Why do I have no antisep-? Here. Right. O-kay.” He opened the small bottle of rubbing alcohol, biting his cheek. “This’ll hurt.”

     It did hurt. Lucy almost jumped off the desk, reflexes oversensitive from living rough for ten years. Wincing apologetically, Henry told her, somewhat less tactfully than he would have liked, that he did say it was going to hurt.

     “I geddit, smartarse. Keep going.” She settled back down and raised her chin stubbornly, intent on enduring the rest of the pain without sound.

     “I- um, I get that this might be a sensitive topic, but if you don’t mind me asking… what happened?” Henry asked timidly, wiping the wound clean as well as he could. Lucy gritted her teeth with pain, but kept her voice as steady as possible.

_an arm from behind_

     “I was doing some… stuff downtown, normal night, you know--”

_a hand over my mouth_

     “--and this guy just grabbed me, it’s not super unusual in New York, it happens sometimes…”

_whispering in my ear_

     “I think he was pretty drunk, he smelled kind of like alcohol…”

_‘No! Get away from me! Get away, get-!’_

     “He was being a- a creep, obviously, and I tried to leave, but--”

_hitting the floor, vision blurring_

     “--yeah, you can kinda tell that that didn’t work.” She shrugged, then flinched as the still-tender gouges on her back

_a cold blade running across flesh with the slick sound of blood gushing_

     shifted with her movement. Henry apologized. “It looks like that’s all I can do right now. It looks old enough to hold itself shut without stitches, but if it splits you’d better go get some actual professional aid, ‘cause I’ve got _no_ idea how to sew people up.”

     Lucy slid off the desk and

_‘Don’t say no to me, sunshine…’_

     zipped her sweater back up. “Thanks, Doctor Jekyll,” she joked. “I hope you don't mind too much that I had to come bother you instead of finding an actual doctor. I just… don't trust easily, ya know? Besides, it would've been a lot more awkward explaining it.”

     “Yeah, I know what you mea- Oh. You really trust me that much? Uh. Thanks, I guess.”

     Lucy snorted. “You're funny, you know. And thanks again for your help.” She made her way to the door as she spoke. “I’d be glad if none of this got out, yeah?” After Henry reassured her that no way was any of this getting out, don’t worry, she shrugged. “I’ll try my best to forget this whole thing, it’s worked before. I just try to leave things behind and cope, y’know?” The taller student nodded, taking a seat on a lab stool and resting his head in one hand, elbow propped on the desk.

     Hand on the doorknob, Lucy suddenly paused and looked at the floor. “There’s one thing I won’t be able to forget, though,” she said softly, voice taking on a different colour. “He told me his name, and--”

 _‘Never forget it, Lucy… I’ll always be back, and you’d better be around for me, otherwise I’m going to be_ very _disappointed in you…’_

     “--it’s not going to leave me for a while.” Neither student spoke for a while before Lucy finished with two simple sentences that tore Henry’s world apart.

     “It was Hyde. Edward Hyde.”

_a knife in my hand_

     Lucy might have said something else afterwards, but Henry couldn’t hear it.

_a cold blade running across flesh with the slick sound of blood gushing_

     “Henry? You okay?”

     “I’m… fine,” Henry managed, staring with horror down at his own clean hands as the pieces all crashed together with a deafening crack like a puzzle assembled at the speed of sound.

_blood everywhere_

     “I only--”

_blood in my mouth blood on my hands blood_

     “--It’s nothing, it’s fine…”

_no no no no NO NO NO NONONONO PLEASE NO_

     “If you say so,” Lucy muttered, not looking convinced. “Well, see you around.”

_yes_

     As soon as the oblivious young woman closed the door behind her, Henry dropped to the floor, crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry muses about how he genuinely enjoys being Hyde while sleeping off a hangover (he cannot remember anything of the previous night, not an unusual happening whenever Edward drank). Lucy texts Henry, asking if the two of them can meet up in Henry's lab room soon. He agrees and, upon meeting, Lucy asks if he knows anything about medical knowledge and reveals several serious, gruesome wounds across her back. Henry treats these and as he does, Lucy suffers flashbacks to last night as she explains that she had been attacked by someone seeking to sexually assault. The two still manage to keep the banter somewhat lighthearted, until Lucy is about to leave, when she tell Henry that her attacker's name was Edward Hyde. Henry begins to remember bits and pieces and undergoes some of the same flashbacks that Lucy had, and when Lucy leaves, Henry breaks down and begins to cry, unable to stand it anymore.  
> * * *
> 
> I've been reading Stephen King a lot recently and I think it shows a little...  
> Anyway, I'm actually pretty pleased with how this chapter turned out! Happy reading (or summarizing, whatever makes you feel most comfortable!)


	19. Views

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry doesn't want to talk to Emma and takes a bit of a drastic measure to evade her. Also some other stuff, like major plot points, but that's boring.

_ I think I’m starting to figure things out. _

Henry stopped after the first painful sentence, then plowed on, determined to get the truth, as far as he knew it, out on paper.

_ Edward is everything in me that I wanted to remove, but it’s becoming obvious that it’s not only that, he’s also everything I’m trying to suppress, consciously or not. _

He thought back to the bottle of alcohol in his room, while Haz laughed at him and Gabe burst through the door with a mouthful of theories and Poole rolled his eyes at them all. He had thought that he disliked the taste.

Apparently he hadn’t.

_ It’s like everything I am, everything I do, is all pressed through a sieve, and all the stuff I wanted to throw away is all that’s left… Not to mention that it seems like the little things got amplified like crazy. _ _ I  _ _ Edward only started drinking after I tried that stuff……… right? _

He couldn’t quite remember.

Henry shook his head in irritation, sighing. It was impossible to recall. All this was too much effort. He almost wanted to…

The little paper envelope of white eBay salt caught his eye as it sat on the shelf, barely concealed behind a book. Henry bit his lip, looking at it in silence.

 

Oblivious to Henry’s struggle, Lucy left the small basement room, trying not to think about last night. It was getting easier, partly because long years of practice forgetting painful memories had trained her well, and partly because her mind was occupied with something- or rather, someone- else.

_ He’s just a friend, Luce. Just a friend,  _ she told herself sternly, staring dead ahead as she began to walk up the stairs. 

“Oh hey, Lucy!”

_ Sh*t.  _ Emma was making her way towards her, smiling brightly. Her bruises looked to be completely healed.

“Haven’t seen you in a while!” she continued, throwing one arm around Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy winced, the cuts on her back still aching. “What have you been up to?”

“Uh, noth-”

“Great! I was actually just looking around for you, do you have a minute?”

“Well-”

“Aww, thanks! It’s super nice how you always seem to be able to make time for me.” Arm still around Lucy’s shoulders, Emma steered her somewhat forcefully up the stairs. “We can just go for a little walk while we chat.”

_ Emma’s trying to get at something, that’s obvious… I’m just not sure what it is,  _ Lucy told herself, wearing a carefully calculated poker face.  _ Whatever she wants, I… _

_ I… _

_ What?  _ She could be defiant and say what she wanted to, she could be submissive and give in to whatever Emma wanted… 

_ Options aren’t an option, Riss.  _ The Spider’s words from years ago rang in her ears.  _ You work with us, you listen to me.  _ Lucy bitterly forced the voice out of her mind. _ I have choices, I always do. It just took me a long while to realize it. _

_ A long while and maybe a reason to fight back for? _

Emma didn’t waste time. As soon as the two were outside and aboveground, she stopped and turned. Half-crouching with her hands on her knees, looking to all the world like a mother talking to a child in a stroller. “So. You were chatting with Henry, were you?”

“…Well, yeah,” Lucy started, but before going on, Emma interrupted again.

“It’s nice to see you’re forming a little friendship with a new kid.”

“What are you-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the other girl cut in lightly. “I know you’re my best friend, not anyone else’s.” She put a slight emphasis on the word ‘my’, then leaned in confidentially. “He’s pretty cute, you know.”

Color filled Lucy’s cheeks. “What do you-?”

“Now if he cut his hair, he’d be a lot better-looking. It’s like a mane, honestly. So many cute guys wear their hair in these  _ super _ stupid ways, ya know?”

Lucy didn’t know what to say. By now, she was used to Emma being rude about people she crushed on, but…

“Maybe I’ll ask him to cut it, you know, before we go out,” Emma was rambling casually, talking more to herself than to Lucy now.

“You guys are-?”

“Well, we will be after I ask him, that is.” A tinkling laugh accompanied Emma’s words, the same puppy-and-fairy-dust giggle-snorting laugh that Lucy had grown up listening to. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?” Finally, one uninterrupted sentence.

“Oh, nothing at all.” Emma winked and bounced down the stairs, leaving a slightly dumbstruck Lucy standing behind her.

 

Emma had found out everything she had needed to know within the first few moments of their conversation. Of course, not everyone on the street needed to know  _ that _ , though, did they? Lucy still thought that  _ she _ was her best friend. Everything was all good.

Except for Henry’s ponytail.  _ That _ had to go.

 

Henry had heard Emma coming down the stairs from a mile off. She really wasn’t very hard to mistake.

The window wasn’t the easiest escape route, as it was way too high up and a bit small, but it worked. Thank every God out there that the window wasn’t stuck shut today as it sometimes was. From there, it wasn’t hard to loop around and knock on the door to not his room, but Gabriel’s.

Inside, Henry flopped into a chair, groaning. “I’ve had the  _ weirdest _ day, Gabe, you have  _ nnno _ idea.”

“It was Emma, wasn’t it,” Gabriel deadpanned, not looking up from what he was writing.

“Only… partly,” Henry admitted. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“No, you’re doing it right, Henry,” Gabriel agreed, completely serious. “Emma’s borderline toxic, I don’t know how Lucy manages to be around her full-time.”

“Well, thanks for believing me, at least.”

Gabriel snorted. “I’ve seen some crazy things. And speaking of crazy things…” He put away his notepad and leaned forward, brow furrowed. “That will of yours.”

 

Henry was immediately on edge, that was clear. Something about his will bothered him, and Gabriel wanted to figure out what it was.

“Listen, Gabe. I know you’re not… super comfortable about it. Neither was Haz, when I told him that I’d made one. Actually, the look on his face was pretty memorable. He went on one of his optimistic little forget- about- your- hopes- and- dreams- don’t- throw- away- your- potential rants about it.” Henry started out carefully, but by the end he was just rambling.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea, Henry,” Gabriel told him, pursuing the original thought doggedly. Henry sighed.

“I know, I know. I just… it’s important, and it’s just in case.”

“Still, I want to talk to you about it.”

The other student took a deep breath and, resignedly, agreed. “So. What about it?”

“I told you all this, too. I talked to your, ah,  _ colleague _ , Hyde, a while ago.”

“I-” Henry tried to begin a sentence, but failed once or twice before starting up. “Yeah, he told me about that. Look, Gabe- I’m at a bit of an… an awkward stage right now. My research is, is, is at a bit of a tipping point and I don’t want to take risks.”

“I’m concerned, Henry. This guy isn’t safe. Not in any way. He practically assaulted me, and he was just  _ that _ close to doing something illegal enough for me to arrest him, or at the very least call the police.”

“Please, Gabe, you have to get this.” Henry was at the point of pleading. “I trust you. I trust you enough to give you my own damn  _ will _ . You just have to get that what I’m doing right now is… hard to explain at best. No matter what Hyde’s like, please, just work with it.”

There was a moment of silence in which Gabriel internally debated with himself. Eventually, he nodded. “All right. I'll do what I can.”

Everything in the scientist-in-training’s posture relaxed. “Thanks so much, Gabe. Anyway… how was Carew’s class yesterday? I missed it.”

It was impossible for Gabriel not to smile. Only Henry Jekyll would escape a clingy girl through a window, talk about his death, then proceed to discuss a school course. “It was good, dude. It was good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for any spelling mistakes in this chapter... It's late at night and I'm tired. Anyway, *yawn* happy reading..!


	20. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people yell at each other and Henry wakes up to an unpleasant surprise.

_It’s been three full days since I started experimenting with my formula again. Nothing seems to have changed._ Henry glanced up, chewing on his pen, then continued. _This time, I have taken a daring measure and drastically altered the chemical balance._ _If I notice any differences, they will be written below._

     He left the rest of the page blank for later notes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


     Henry began to prepare the potion again, hesitantly. A sudden thought occurred to him and he lowered the package of salt that he held, stricken.  _ What if I see Lucy again, and…? _

_      No,  _ he told himself sternly.  _ You won’t.  _ As little as it helped, it was the touch of motivation he needed to finish adding the right amount of the clear crystal to the graduated cylinder on the desk before him.

     There was always a thrill, right before the transformation. Every time.

***

     “You know, Robert,” Professor Danvers Carew commented, shuffling through a stack of papers, “all these reports of seeing a monster near the school are terrible for publicity.”

     Robert Guest looked at him thoughtfully. “I can imagine, yes.” His coworker would never admit it, but he could never quite tell if Guest was being sarcastic or not. Carew continued. “We’ve received a few eyewitness accounts from Inspector Newcomen, who thought it would do us well to look at them. Unfortunately, none of them line up. Every person he’s spoken to had a completely different idea of how this person appears. They can’t even decide on age, or accent. It’s absurd. Interestingly, though, each and every person said the exact same thing about how our man appears-- unbearably disgusting to look at, heavily deformed in some way or another, but impossible to point out.”

     Guest remained meditatively silent. He had read the same reports that Carew had, but he wasn’t going to be rude and just say so.

     The other teacher rubbed the bridge of his nose, breathing out loosely through his mouth. “This entire thing is ridiculous. A scam, no doubt. It’ll blow over just like every other stupid hoax we’ve had to work through. Nevertheless, we’ll have to be vigilant.

     “My daughter has a new boyfriend,” he added suddenly, as though he had just remembered. “That chemist student, Henry Jick-ull. You remember that silly interview a few months back?”

     “I do.” It had been… memorable, to say the least. Guest wasn’t going to forget it in a hurry.

     “Well, she tells me they’re dating now. Knowing her, it won’t last long, but it’s still worrying. He’s a bright enough student, as you’ve probably realized, but he wanted to experiment on a human being, for Chrissake. I’ll be keeping an eye on him, I think.”

     Guest nodded, lost in thought.

***

     In the early hours of the morning, Edward Hyde pushed the apartment front doors open with a bang, walking in as though the place were his. As always, there was a pair of idiots eating each other’s faces in the lobby- one look was enough to send them running. Sneering, Edward made his leisurely way in the direction of the basement lab before a shout stopped him in his tracks.

_      “What are you doing here?” _

     He turned. Gabriel was running down the stairs toward him, glaring.

     A disgusting mix of hate and disdain twisted Edward’s face. “Oh. You again.”

     “Answer my question, Hyde. What are you doing here?”

     “What I’m doing is none of your business.” Edward started walking forward again, but Gabriel blocked his way.

     It would be far more convenient to just dispose of him and leave his body lying there, but some trace of something far back in Edward’s mind spoke against it. He would be discovered if he were that careless. Besides, he used to care about him enough to go to him for help.

     Edward breathed in, then out. “Get out of my way.”

     Gabriel clenched his jaw, about to say something, but his willpower was crumbling. This had all looked a lot better from a distance. For a split second, Gabriel imagined he saw something sickening writhe underneath Hyde’s skin, but passed in the blink of an eye and Gabriel was left staring at the other man like an idiot. Angrily, Gabriel took one short step to the side.

     Edward brushed by him silently, not looking back. It was taking a huge amount of willpower not to attack him right then and there, killing him would be so  _ easy,  _ he could _ - _

     But no. He had more important things to do.

***

     As soon as the transformation was over and Henry had stopped shaking, the guilt hit like a brick wall. Every time.

 

     But every time, it was worth it. Everything was worth it. Somehow.

 

     In the earliest hours of a Sunday morning, Henry switched back into his own clothes, quietly made his way along the ground-floor hall to his apartment, slid into his room, and dropped onto his bed, fighting the guilt out of his head. _ It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me. _

_      It wasn’t me. _

***

     It was a warm morning. Golden late-autumn sunlight was pouring through the windows, turning Henry’s sparsely-decorated room bright.

     Henry took his time waking up. Something in him was telling him to get up, get up, something was wrong, you’re not safe, you’re in the wrong place, but he pushed it away tiredly.  _ ‘M fine,  _ he told himself, rolling over.

     He was feeling weirdly energetic.  Nothing seemed really wrong until he brought a hand to his face.

     Henry froze. The skin on the back of his hand was white, veins invisible. Bringing his hand up slowly to his face, he touched features that were very definitely not his own.

     He rose fluidly to his feet, tense, and snatched his phone off his desk. Staring at his reflection on the screen, Edward panicked.

***

_      He had somehow transformed without the potion, in his sleep.  _ This was wrong. He was going to be caught, he would never be able to do what he wanted to again-

     No. He had been around the building before. As long as he could get out of this room and into his lab, no one would bat an eye.

     He wasn’t going anywhere in massively oversized pyjamas, though.

     Nothing else in Henry’s closet was very helpful. The best he could do was find an old set of clothes and roll the cuffs up three or four times until they weren’t dragging on the floor.

     There was no way he was going through the whole apartment where anyone could see him emerging from Henry’s room. The window it was, then. Edward leaped through the opening and landed hard on the outside pavement, gathering what dignity he could and walking tensely in the direction of the main door.

     “You,  _ again _ ?”

_      Gabriel Goddamn Utterson. _ Edward didn’t turn. “Leave.”

     “What are you doing? You keep showing up around here, you’re just-”

     “ _ Leave _ , or I  _ swear _ I will kill you.” His voice was shaking with the effort of self-control.

     “…You… you wouldn’t dare. That’s a death threat, I could call the poli-”

     Edward whirled around at that, teeth clenched. _ “Get out and leave me alone!”  _ Gabriel’s impression of revulsion and deformity came back stronger than ever and he flinched. 

     Gabriel fell silent and stopped walking, letting the short figure in the too-big clothes storm away from him. There was something so horribly wrong with him, but it was impossible to figure out what it was.

      And was that Henry’s sweater?

***

     Back within the lab, Edward braced his arms on the desk and screamed, pushing all the air from his lungs in one long go. He spent several minutes breathing harshly, staring at nothing, mind teeming with a blur of emotions. Everything in him wanted to get _ out, move, break  _ something _ ,  _ but no, he had to stay here, he had to-

     Change back. People would notice Henry’s absence, people would find out. He mixed the compound with a sudden stark, blank emptiness he didn’t know he had. 

     It wasn’t long before Henry Jekyll had returned, in a cold sweat, shaking.  _ He had transformed during his sleep.  _ This changed everything.

     Hyde was growing too powerful. He couldn’t risk this anymore.

     No more risks.

     Henry wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is with me and ridiculously short paragraphs? Oh well, have this one-day-late-virtually-unedited-mentally-wobbly chapter, happy reading!


	21. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loses it, one at a time. First Haz, then Henry... then Hyde.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: blood, death, pain, yeah you get it this chapter's A Ride
> 
> As always, there will be a chapter summary at the end for those who don't want to read about The Above Triggers so feel free to skip to there

_Something in the chemical modifications I conducted must have done something to my system. All I know now is that somehow, I changed into Hyde_ _in my sleep. _ _I don’t know how, but it’s becoming too dangerous to take the compound anymore. Will hold off for one week, longer if possible, and see what happens._

      Henry dropped the notebook into its place in his desk drawer and paced, shaking. Something had gone wrong, even more wrong than before, and everyone would find out about Hyde, and…

     No one would know. No one _could_ know. With luck, a lack of HJ7 being ingested would cancel the effects.

     Luck. Something he apparently didn’t have a lot of.

***

     Two restless days passed. Henry spent as much time as possible in his bedroom, skipping courses, coming out a few times a day to grab food and do small things as quickly as he could.

     He refused to sleep. _Paranoid, maybe, but better paranoid than unwillingly Hyde,_ he wrote.

     With time, Haz and Poole reluctantly learned to leave him alone.

     Most of the time.

     “Henry, open up.” Haz knocked impatiently on the locked door.

     “No.” This was Henry's third day entirely without sleep. He hadn't transformed again ( _yet,_ his brain told him shiftily) and there was no way he was risking it, especially around people.

     “Henry, you've been avoiding everybody for days. You haven't been eating, you haven't been going to classes, everyone's concerned.”

     “Everyone?”

     “Well, like four people. But still, you have to-” Haz abruptly stopped talking. “Henry, this isn't about your potion thing again, is it?”

     “It's called _the duality of mankind._ ”

     “Call it what you want, it's all bulls**t. Henry, you _need_ to get over that, it's been _months_. Even Carew can see your potential and you know he hates pretty much everyone.”

     “…”

     “And don't even _try_ and tell me it's not. You're a terrible liar-”

     “ _You're_ not my mother-”

     “-you sound like you're catching a cold-”

     “-you’re not Gabe, either, I hope-”

     “-and you just need to forget about it!”

     For a few seconds, neither student talked, before there was a shifting noise as Haz left his side of the door. “You know what? Go ahead. I'm not gonna mother you anymore. Waste your life.”

     He didn't even sound angry. Just tired, just _done_ , and that was what hurt the most. Henry wanted to call back after him, say what he feverishly wrote minutes later,

 _I'm not wasting anything!_ _I've_ _succeeded!_ _You're_ _the one_ _wasting your life!_

     As he dashed words and lines onto paper, his pen broke and blue ink smeared across the page, obscuring carefully written formulas and meticulous entries.

     But no. No. He couldn't say anything. Haz would find out and then Gabriel and Poole and everyone would know and everything would crash and burn down around his ears.

     It took a moment for Henry to realize he was sweating. He scrambled to his feet, throwing himself across the room to look into the mirror he now kept on his desk.

     For a second, he imagined he saw thin lines of black splitting his irises like lightning split the sky, but the second passed and nothing had happened at all.

_It's fine. I'm, I'm fine. My eyes have changed colour before and nothing happened then, nothing will happen now. I'm alright, I'm okay, I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine I'm f iN E _

     His journal entries were getting less and less collected as time went on. Henry couldn't care less. He had to wait, and wait for longer, until he could be sure that this… this thing wouldn't happen again.

     It could never happen again. He would never let it.

     He would control this. Henry Jekyll was Henry Jekyll and he would _not_ lose that.

 _Never,_ he wrote. _Never._

     Never.

***

     Next night, Haz had one of his “friends” over. The, ah, young, clueless female type of friend. While the two of them were in Haz's room, probably with a bottle of alcohol, Henry took the opportunity to slip out the door and go for a walk.

     It was nice to just walk around outside at night, sometimes. As Hyde, he would do much more, he would do everything and take in everything and revel in having all the life in the world.

     As Henry Jekyll, however, he just wanted to walk and take the chance to be outside, alone, no danger to anyone. He inhaled deeply, taking the first deep breath of real fresh air he had gotten for over half a week. The sky was starless, the air warm for a late autumn day. He sneezed, having forgotten the mild illness he must have been catching.

     “What are you doing outside at this time of night, young man?”

     Henry spun, heart pounding. Danvers Carew was walking stiffly down the road, a frown written plainly across his face even from a distance. He was loosely swinging a walking stick.

     “N- nothing. Just talking a walk.” _Don't talk to me don't talk to me don't talk to me just let me leave…_

     “Don't you know about the curfew in place?” His face softened slightly at Henry's stricken look and leaned on his stick. “Mr. Jick-ull, we as the faculty are doing our best to keep our esteemed students safe. Please understand that if our rules are disobeyed, you are only hurting yourself.”

     “I understand, Professor.”

     Carew nodded, apparently satisfied, but before Henry could draw a relieved breath he turned back. “Ah, yes, I remember now. I wanted to have a brief word with you about my daughter.”

     “ …What about her?” The very mention of Emma set his teeth on edge.

     Carew sighed. “I hear that you two are dating now?”

     “What? No, I- she-”

     “I don't mind that you're together, you know,” Carew continued, ignoring him. “I'm just concerned. I want the best for Emma, of course.”

     Henry nodded impatiently. “Professor-”

     “As much as I appreciate the honorific, Mr. Carew should do. This is the United States, after all.”

     “Pr- Mr. Carew, I'm not-”

     “Anyhow,” Carew went on, “I noticed you've been missing quite a few of my classes lately. You intend to major in chemistry, correct?” Without waiting for an answer, he plowed on. “Your future depends on now. Try and put a little more effort into the important things, will you? Your experiments…”

     As Carew was speaking, he was already on his way down the sidewalk away from Henry, leaving him standing blankly by the road.

     “…really very silly…”

     Henry realized he was shaking.

     “…never succeed, a completely impossible idea, terrifically old-fashioned…”

     Numbness set in. Henry relaxed, expression turning empty as he stared after his teacher.

     "If you'll let me put it bluntly, you'll fail.”

     Fail.

  


     Fail.

  
  
  


     The numbness began to give way to anger. Irrational, overwhelming fury that felt nothing like his own.

     “That's where you're wrong, _Carew._ ”

     At the barely concealed menace in his student’s voice, the old man turned. Henry was walking towards him, hands clenched into fists.

     If you had asked Danvers Carew three months ago about what he thought of Henry Jekyll, he would have said that the young man was not in any way a very intimidating person. Tall, gangly, with long hair and always wearing an unprofessional baggy sweater. Even when clearly furious for some reason, he had never in any way been scary.

     But something was off now. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but there was definitely _something_.

     He wasn’t scary, was he?

     Maybe a little.

     “What on Earth are you doing, Mr. Jick-?”

 _“It’s. Jekyll.”_ Henry snapped through clenched teeth.

     Something was off about him, Carew thought to himself. He had always thought Jekyll… taller.

     Carew was saying something, but Henry could barely hear him. Blood was rushing in his ears.

     Very suddenly, and only for a second, Carew was truly afraid.

     “Mr--”

     Henry punched him across the face.

     Carew staggered back, blood smeared across his face like the ink from Henry’s pen. He punched again, harder, and there was a sharp cracking noise as the old man’s nose broke.

     Reeling, Carew fell backwards, hitting the pavement hard with one elbow. His cane dropped and rolled away. Faintly he heard something snap, then his head was flung to the side, one ear echoing with a concussive sound as Henry kicked him.

     Eyes unfocused, he struggled to lift his head. A foot sunk heavily into his stomach and he made a weak huffing sound, the wind knocked out of him.

     Blood obscured his vision. A hand closed around his windpipe, cutting off his breath and holding him to the ground.

     A face came close to his own, swimming into his view.

     “Hyde,” Hyde whispered, grinning too widely. “Mr. Hyde.”

     In his free hand, he held Carew’s walking stick. He raised it above his head and, in a single stroke, drove it straight through its owner’s neck.

     There was a sickening _gthunk_ as the tapered end sank in deep, hitting bone. Wrenching it out, Hyde stabbed Carew again, this time in the abdomen. Guts squelched as he twisted the cane sideways.

     Carew gave a faint groan. Somehow, the old man was still clinging to life.

     The handle of the old wooden cane was a weighted knob. Fury burned and Hyde swung it, hard, at the old man’s head. There was a crack like a gunshot as the skull visibly dented and broke.

     Hyde couldn’t stop. Something between a laugh and an inhuman snarl began to rise in his throat as he swung the stick again and again, each time accompanied with a horrible _crack_ as something else broke.

     A cold sweat had broken out on Hyde’s face as he slowed, grinning madly at the mutilated mess on the pavement before him. Blood had soaked both hands and most of his clothing.

 

     Then it hit him like a wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took A Lot of effort my part to /not/ name this chapter "DFHAGHDKNMBASFSFG" because hmmmmmm was this ever A Ride
> 
> Anyway, a summary?
> 
> Henry writes in his journal, describing how he somehow turned into Hyde in his sleep, probably from the modifications he had been working on his potion. He decides to avoid the potion for as long as he can, while also avoiding human contact to evade complications.  
> Several days pass, and Haz and Henry have an argument about Henry's work. Later that night, Haz in distracted by, ah, a friend of his, and while they are in his room, Henry slips out of the apartment to go for a walk.  
> While outside, he meets Carew, who is using a walking stick. Carew berates Henry for being outside, missing classes, and not being good enough for his daughter. Henry tries to explain that no, actually, I'm not dating Emma at all, Professor, but Carew, being much like his daughter, never listens. Eventually, Carew goes too far and Henry finds himself growing irrationally furious. He attacks Carew, which ultimately ends in a very dead Danvers Carew and a very horrified Edward Hyde.
> 
> Happy reading!... I promise I'm sane (most of the time at least)


	22. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some nosying around, some evidence and a whole bucketload of whodunnit.

     “So you’re telling me that this murder happened _in the middle of New York City_ and there was _one_ eyewitness!?”

     Mr. Guest was pacing himself a furrow on his office floor, waving his arms energetically. An exhausted Gabriel and the uniformed Police Inspector Newcomen stood awkwardly by the door, watching him stride back and forth like the pendulum on a clock. Gabriel held one half of an elegant wooden walking stick in a plastic sleeve to keep fingerprints off, looking like he had no idea what to do with it. Which was true.

     “Oddly enough, yes. The boys at the office have talked to her more times than we can count, but didn’t get much out of her. It’s reasonable, I mean, it was her father.” Newcomen twiddled his thumbs, mouth scrunched up underneath his mustache.

     On the night Mr. Carew died, the eyewitness had said (with a great deal of crying and stammering) that she had been sitting in the bedroom of her house across the street, waiting for her father to arrive home, when she looked out the window upon hearing raised voices. She was just in time to catch the sight of a short, ugly figure bashing Mr. Carew to the ground. At this point, Emma Carew became too emotional to continue and refused to say another word.

     Guest heaved a sigh. “Well, bring her in. As her teacher and Dan’s colleague, maybe I can get something more out of her.”

     Gabriel nodded and left the office, looking to the right of the door. Slumped in a chair and snivelling sat Emma Carew, wearing a black scarf over her normal brightly-coloured outfit. She glanced up and, leaning heavily on Gabriel’s arm, entered the office.

     “Emma,” Guest greeted. “May I just begin by saying that I am hugely sorry for your los-”

     “I get it,” Emma interrupted unhappily. “Won’t change anything.”

     “We-ell,” the teacher continued awkwardly after a moment, “is there anything else you'd like to tell us about what you saw?”

     “There's nothing else to it.” She shrugged. “I saw what I saw.”

     “Did you catch a name, perhaps? Anything that might be recognized?”

     Emma opened her mouth, about to retort angrily, but then caught Gabriel’s eye. She frowned suddenly, more thoughtful than anything else. “Actually, now that you mention it… I never got the name of the person who… you know… walked over me. Thing is, he looked like the exact same as the guy I saw last night. Gabe, you know who I mean, right?”

     Gabriel narrowed his eyes, thinking.

     Not even five seconds later, the other three were left in the dust, as Gabriel dropped the half-stick and sprinted out of the room without a moment’s warning.

     “…Were you expecting that?” Newcomen asked the other two, staring after him. Guest shrugged. “You get used to it.”

***

     “HEEENNRRRRYYYY!!!” Gabriel yelled, bursting through his friend’s front door by way of the key helpfully hidden in the hallway lamp. Naturally Henry was nowhere to be seen.

     “Henry?” Gabriel asked more quietly, walking further in. Still nothing.

     “?” someone asked from the other end of the apartment. Haz stumbled out of his room, hair a mess.

     “On a scale of one to ten, how hungover are you?”

     “Yep.” Haz grinned tiredly. “Worth it.”

     “…All right. Have you seen Henry?”

     “Nope. He was being an idiot, stuck himself in his room all yesterday, et cetera. He’s probably still there.” Haz left the apartment, grumbling to himself.

     Gabriel made his way slowly to Henry's bedroom door, hesitating before knocking.

     Not surprisingly in the least, no one answered.

     “I know you’re in there, Henry. This is important. Your friend, Hyde-”

     “NO.”

     Henry’s voice was shaky, and it broke halfway through the word. Gabriel hesitated for a second, then plowed on. “He killed someone last night, and the police are increasing security around the school. You won’t be meeting him for science any more, he's a murderer.”

     “…”

     “Henry, are you all right?”

     “Take a guess.” He sounded like he had been crying.

     “Okay, I’m sorry. That was tactless. Will you let me in?”

     There was a pause. “No.”

     Gabriel wasn’t surprised, not really. This had hit everyone hard. Even classes were down for the day, and at a specialty school for ‘talented individuals’, that almost never happened. “All right. Can I check back with you later?”

     “…Fine.”

     Sensing the end to a conversation, Gabriel slowly walked away. Something wasn’t falling into place.

     He needed to visit Hyde’s house.

***

     With Inspector Newcomen wielding a gun and a set of handcuffs behind him, Gabriel made his way into the old building, the address of which he had gained from repeated Rick pestering. The bottom floor was completely bare, but the spindly stairs along the back wall led to a second one that looked, if not inhabited, at least partially occupied. It had something of a weary old Victorian gothic style despite the small size and the relative blandness.

     A weak yellow tint flushed through the windows, lighting everything just enough to reveal the inside of the old room. A set of long grey curtains that did nothing to prevent the sunlight from entering hung dirtily from their rods. All the furniture and other accessories retained their carved wooden original effect, with the exception of a single battered plastic lawn chair knocked over on the floor.

     “Anything you can see?” Newcomen asked quietly, facing the door while Gabriel scanned the room.

     “Nothing at first glance. Are we clear?”

     Newcomen fell silent for several seconds, then nodded, advancing further into the room, still half-facing the door. “Check around a bit, son. The fireplace, the cabinet over there-”

     “Already ahead of you, Officer.” Gabriel crouched by the old iron fireplace, set into the wall with next to no ceremony. Drawing on a pair of thin latex gloves, he carefully sifted through the crumbly white ash. “This is from paper, I can tell. There isn’t much else that burns all flaky like that.”

     “He’s burned papers, or books, then.” Newcomen nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

     The student’s brow furrowed suddenly as his fingers touched something yet unburnt. Drawing it out, he recognized an ash-covered, heavily singed green checkbook binding. Newcomen wasn’t looking. Pulling a plastic evidence sleeve from his bag, Gabriel sealed the binding in, then tucked it away again. After looking through the ashes for a moment more, he straightened up again, discarding the filthy gloves and moving on.

     Gabriel drew on a new pair of gloves and carefully approached the tall wardrobe-like… thing… by the window. Two sets of double doors decorated its face, one occupying the top half and the other the bottom. He carefully pulled on the handles of the lower doors. It made a horrendous sound as it opened and both men winced.

     “Fun,” Gabriel muttered under his breath, and peered through. A few outfits, badly sewn and patched in some cases, lay piled on the floor of the cabinet. Gabriel looked questioningly at the bearded officer behind him, who shrugged. “Poke through it, couldn’t hurt.”

     Obligingly, Gabriel slowly reached down with two fingers and maneuvered a jacket, then a shirt, off the pile. Nothing. “Uh, how about we look through this guy’s laundry later?”

     “Agreed.” Newcomen, who had come over to stand just behind Gabriel, took a step back to keep one eye on the door. The student carefully clicked the lower doors shut and reached for the upper knobs.

     One, the leftmost one, folded in on itself and broke off in his hand with a weak, brittle splintering noise. Gabriel jumped as the narrow toothpicks of doorknob bounced onto the floor. Newcomen tensed and looked over his shoulder, but did nothing more.

     Now lacking one handle, Gabriel pulled open the other with much more care. Nothing but a small stack of dusty papers.

     He hooked his gloved fingers around the edge of the other door and pulled it open as well, and…

     And…

     “Officer…” Gabriel said carefully, “…you might want to see this.”

     Sitting at the back wall of the cabinet- no. ‘Sitting’ wasn’t the right word for it. _Flung_ _into_ the back wall of the cabinet, near the left side, was the other half of Carew’s walking stick, its splintered end sticking like a feathered dart towards Gabriel’s chest, its narrower end stabbed deep through the wooden back and straight into the peeling wallpaper beyond. Newcomen peered over alongside the criminology student.

     “Ah,” he said.

     “Mm-hm,” Gabriel confirmed thoughtfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long week and circumstances have been keeping me away from good reliable Internet, so this chapter's a touch late, but oh well. Hey, can you tell I like writing crime investigation scenes? I only managed to drag this on for a whole chapter because it's 98% flowery descriptions of things. Happy reading!


	23. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry relives the most terrible thing in his life so far, Gabe is annoyed because he is not a fictional character, and the author thinks they're cool for putting neat little easter eggs in the chapter.
> 
> tw: death mention, violence mention <\-- so as always I'll provide a summary at the end of this chapter

     Henry, meanwhile, was living in a nightmare.

     It was like when he- no, when Hyde- had broken Stride’s arm, but a hundred times worse. It consumed his mind. Every second that passed brought it to life again, forcing him to relive every instant over and over until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He screamed into his pillow, clutched at his own skin until he drew blood, raked his hands through his hair again and again to remind himself that I’m Henry, I’m Henry Jekyll, I’m, I’m me, no  _ please _ STOP I’M ME… 

     He couldn’t make it stop. All night it went on, reminding him of how

_      (he Hyde they) _

     had felt, mauling the old man’s unresisting corpse, the stick breaking in his hand from the sheer violence of each blow-

     Each  _ wonderful _ blow.

     He had loved it. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, he didn’t know if he was Jekyll or Hyde, and at this point he didn’t care, because

_      oh God what have I done, get out get away… _

     he was going to be found and arrested and killed, punished for

_      sprinting up the steps to the old house, bursting into the upper room, blood-smeared wood fragment in hand _

     tearing apart the human soul, he had ruined his life, Haz had been right

_      scrambling for papers, checkbooks, whatever he had touched _

     about everything, how silly he had been to pursue these

_      fumbling with the matchbox on the mantelpiece, at last watching his work and his money go up in flames _

     meaningless things, and now he was going to die, haha! Oh God, how had he ever thought this to help the world?

_      he couldn’t move fast enough, already memories were beginning to haunt him and drag him down _

     He should have listened to his friends… no, what was he talking about? He

_      An explosion of rage, everything was too much, he turned and in one motion  _ **_flung_ ** _ the cane  _

     would have no friends, not after this

_      the crack of brittle wood bursting reminded him of Carew’s brittle wooden skull _

     I’M GOING TO DIE

     “Henry?”

     Everything stopped for a heartbeat. Frozen, Henry listened as Gabriel’s indistinct voice and Haz’s very hungover one interacted, then there was the soft whump of the door closing behind someone.

_      Knock… knock… knock _ .

     “I know you’re in there, Henry. This is important. Your friend, Hyde-”

     “NO.” He could feel the tears creeping again. There was one thing on Earth Henry didn’t want to talk about, Gabriel had managed to land squarely on it.

     “He killed someone last night, and the police are increasing security around the school. You won’t be meeting him for science any more, he's a murderer.”

     Henry pressed his face into his pillow, choking back a sound that was both a scream and a sob. _No_ _goddamn_ _kidding_ , he wouldn’t be meeting Hyde again! Hyde _was_ a murderer now. He would never return, Henry promised himself for the hundredth time. No matter what he had to do.

     “Henry, are you all right?”

     He hesitated before speaking, painfully pushing the anger and sorrow from his voice. “Take a guess.”

     There was mixed emotions in his friend’s voice when he spoke next, something of sympathy and a sad smile. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was tactless. Will you let me in?”

     Of course Henry wanted to let him in. He wanted to talk to someone, tell someone what he was going through, but it was beyond impossible. Gabriel  _ hated _ Hyde, that much was clear. “…No.”

     “All right. Can I check back with you later?” Henry was somewhat surprised at Gabriel’s willingness, but, weary, chose to ignore it.

     “…Fine.”

     Silence from the outside. Gabriel had evidently left.

     For a few seconds, Henry sat soundlessly, drained by even this tiny amount of conversation.

     Then he curled up in the smallest possible ball, under the covers at the foot of his bed, and tried to think of anything, everything, that wasn't death.

***

     One floor up and four doors to the left on the other side of the hall, one day later, a desk lamp went on with a metallic  _ click _ and a soft buzzing. Three different plastic containers of brown powder landed clink-clink-clink on a wooden desk, neatly lined up. Three heavy books, two pairs of latex gloves, a makeup-powder brush and an overly expensive magnifying glass soon followed. A large dark blue shoulder bag with a tiny panda-head badge sewn onto one corner landed ungraciously on the floor, making the light bounce on its adjustable neck.

     Gabriel pulled the little green piece of evidence from his bag. Pulling on a pair of the gloves, he delicately removed its plastic sleeve and inspected it. He carefully tapped a layer of brown powder over it and swept at it lightly with the brush, blowing away any remnants of loose dust and leaning over to take a closer look.

     Fingerprints, obviously. That was to be expected.

     He snapped a picture, frustrated. They'd match the ones on the cane, naturally. Wasn’t this supposed to be that one point in the book where some amazing new piece of evidence was discovered, some big plot twist in which the hero finds the one thing needed to capture the criminal and save the day?

     Apparently not. 

_      Ding. _

     Gabriel glanced over at his phone, scooping it up.

_      You have received one new email _

     He tapped on it.

_From:_ _Henry Jekyll (henryj7@mmail.com)_

_      Gabe, _

_      Sorry for being so rude earlier today. You know that this whole thing has been kind of hard on me, but I can’t do this without help anymore. Not to sound melodramatic, but I’ve kind of lost trust in myself. _

_      I've received an email from Hyde. I think you might want to see i- _

     Gabriel grabbed his bag off the floor and was gone before he could read another word.

***

_      Knockknockknock! _

     This time, Henry opened the door, looking pale and worn. “You got my email, then?”

     Out of breath, Gabriel nodded. The other student stepped aside to allow him entry. “I really am sorry for being so rude.”

     “Don’t worry about it. Can I check out that email?”

     Henry regarded him thoughtfully. His friend was practically buzzing with impatience and excitement- he’d have to step carefully. “Sure.”

     The two walked to Henry’s open laptop, perched haphazardly on top of a stack of papers, books and boxes. Gabriel muttered something about not understanding how he was able to function with all this on his desk, but let it slide. Henry looked terrible- Gabriel wasn’t going to try and make all this hurt more.

     “It’s this one.” Henry stepped back, letting the other student lean forward with interest at the screen.

_      From: _ _ Unknown (naphthaleneacetic@mmail.com) _

_      Henry. _

_      You don’t need to worry about my safety. As I’m sure you know, we won’t be meeting again. _

_      -Edward Hyde _

     “That’s all?” Gabriel asked, but immediately regretted it. Henry had flushed. “Sorry, Henry. This is amazing. It might not have been a lot, but it’s evidence. If anything-  _ anything _ , mind- else comes up, tell me ASAP.”

     “All right.” Henry’s voice was small, and Gabriel looked at him, brow furrowed, but said nothing about it. After a few moments of silence, he shouldered his bag and bid goodbye to his friend.

     “Oh,” Gabriel said suddenly, pausing and turning back. “Do you mind if I took a quick picture of that email?”

     Henry nodded. Whisking his phone from his bag, Gabriel snapped a picture of the laptop screen, then, with a nod of thanks, left the apartment, new developments weighing heavy on his mind.

_      Edward. His full name is Edward Hyde. _

***

     “Professor?”

     Guest glanced up from a pile of paperwork on his desk. “Gabriel! Come in. Inspector Newcomen informed me of some new discoveries you two made yesterday?”

     “Yes, but I’m sure he already told you all about that. I have something to show you.” Gabriel impatiently pulled out his phone and showed the older man Hyde’s email. The teacher furrowed his brow. Pulling out a pencil, he quickly jotted down the email address, then looked up with a spark in his eye.

     Gabriel raised an eyebrow and Guest laughed. “I may be old, but I can work wonders with an email address and the right software. Come back tomorrow, around this time, and then the game shall be truly afoot, young Holmes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> werewolves are not furries thank you for coming to my very short but important cryptid-based ted talk
> 
> anyway, that being said, summary?  
> While Gabriel and Inspector Newcomen are investigating Hyde's house, Henry can't stop reliving a nightmare- the night he killed Danvers Carew. He basically has a breakdown, then Gabriel, as in the last chapter, knocks on his door. The two have a hurried conversation, the same one featured in the previous chapter, but from Henry's perspective. After the events of last chapter- that is, after Gabriel investigates Hyde's house- he returns to his room with the unburnt checkbook piece, which he inspects for evidence. Finding only one set of fingerprints that match the ones on Carew's cane that belong to Hyde, he is about to go to Professor Guest in frustration, when he receives an email from Henry explaining that he in turn has gotten a text message from Hyde. Gabriel, before leaving, takes a screenshot and goes to Guest with what he has, mentioning the email. Guest tells Gabriel to leave the address in his hands- information can always be gathered, if one takes the time and has the knowledge.
> 
> Happy reading on this lovely full moon night!


	24. Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dammit, Henry.

_      I’m going to take a huge risk by doing this, but I have to. I swear I’m going to go insane if I stay inside for one more day. I’ll be as careful as I can get, but the fact remains that anything is possible, and it feels like I’m growing more volatile by the hour. _

_      I’ll take my chances. _

     Biting his lip, Henry tucked his journal away again, checking the time. In around two hours, Haz and Poole would both be asleep.

     Taking the potion was far, far too dangerous. That being said, he couldn't just stay inside all the time. It was driving him bonkers. He had to get out.

     “H- hello?”

     The voice came from outside. Henry hesitated, torn. It was already late- he could pretend to be asleep, or out, or…

     It was Lucy's voice. He looked out the window.

     The young woman was standing with the top of her head half a meter below him, hands in pockets, looking cautiously around. A slight half-smile lifting the corners of his mouth, Henry reached down and tapped her lightly on the head. She jumped and looked up, only to break into a grin. “Jerk. You scared me.”

     “You're welcome,” he replied, grateful for the lightheartedness. “What's up?”

     “I know it's kind of late, but I was wondering if we could talk for a while? The Spades is still open,” she offered, watching him curiously.

     Oh.

     Part of him wanted to say yes, to do something, go somewhere other than the same apartment for days, but he couldn't. He could  _ not _ . He'd only endanger Lucy and himself, and no amount of enjoying himself would change the fact that he was a murderer now.

     “I…”

     “It's okay if you don't want to,” she added hurriedly. “It's nothing important.”

     “I'm really sorry, honestly. I just… really can't right now. I- I'm so sorry,” he fumbled, looking around nervously.

     Who was that?

     Someone- just too far away to see- ducked out of sight around the corner of the building. Lucy turned as well, and visibly paled. “It's all right,” she replied quickly, distracted, and walked in the opposite direction as fast as her legs could take her.

     Henry looked after her quietly, a slight frown on his face.

***

     The next morning, Henry was energetically doing the exact same thing he had been doing for several days in a row, which was to say, absolutely nothing. 

_      You have one (1) new message,  _ his phone told him.

      He tapped on it.

_ \- henry you moron _

_ \- What did I do? _ he sent back, paling. Did Haz know about-?

_ \- you had this great opportunity and you just blew it _

_ dUDE _

_ \- Opportunity for what? _

_ \- i just talked to lucy and _

_ did you seriously _

_ \- Seriously what? Haz i have no idea what you’re talking about _

_ \- she asked you out on a date dude _

     Wait… she what?

     Henry slowly put down the phone.

     Oh.

     It was for the best, he argued at himself a few minutes later, staring at his pillow. He couldn’t endanger anyone else, no matter what.

     But who had been that other person? Whoever it was that she had been running from? There were so many unanswered questions in his mind, and every answer only brought up more.

     He inhaled, then exhaled slowly through his mouth, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying his best to push away every thought.

***

     This was his third time outside after resolving to be more careful.

     So far, it was working. He had encountered no one, having resorted to hiding whenever he thought he saw someone up ahead. More often than not, there was no one there.

     It never hurt to be safe, though.

     For an early spring night, it was fairly warm- he only needed a light coat. He had come here, to New York, just last fall, Henry reflected, staring aimlessly at the sky, and ever since, his life had been an insane rollercoaster of mess after mess after mess.

     But some of those messes were wonderful. Horrible, disgusting, but… wonderful all the bitter same.

     Henry coughed. It had to have something to do with the potion- at first he had thought it was just a seasonal thing, but if it was, it was some kind of several-month-long seasonal thing. Maybe he’d look a bit more into that.

     Someone’s voice, raised in anger, burst somewhere up ahead, and Henry jumped, turning and dashing frantically into the nearest alleyway. It was small, really only the crack between two old houses housing two garbage bags and an empty tissue paper box, but it was enough. Henry waited.

     As the voice grew nearer, another quieter one joined it, only getting out a word now and then between the other person’s outbursts. The longer Henry listened, growing claustrophobic in the small space, the clearer the speaker’s voices became.

     “...not like that, don’t be stu-”

     “Don’t be what?  _ What _ did you say?”

     “...”

     “Well I didn’t think so, either. You don’t deserve him, you know that, right?”

     “I just-”

     “Oh, hon. I’m your best friend, I’m just trying to help. I still don't know why you've been avoiding me lately. You keep running away when you see me- I just want the best for you.”

     “...”

     Now that the voices were distinct enough for Henry to pick out words, who they were was also becoming blatantly clear. Internally groaning, Henry squeezed his eyes shut and wished he wasn’t there, which never helped, but it was worth a shot.

     The two students’ conversation was slowly growing quieter again. They must have turned onto a side street or something, Henry thought, but it didn’t block their voices out completely. He could still clearly hear Emma’s irritated honey-sweet tone and Lucy’s occasional softer affirmations.

     Carefully, he slipped out of his hiding place and looked around. Nobody on the street once again.

     He rested one hand on his forehead, wincing. Moving so quickly had made him dizzy. Delicately and as quietly as possible, he made his way to the corner of the block and looked around the corner.

     Just Lucy. Emma had vanished.

     He could say hello, or he could be completely safe and stay out of sight. A jumble of thoughts crowded his head and he shook it, frustrated. He’d made himself this mess of a life and he was going to have to deal with it, one way or another.

     Lucy, standing just underneath a burnt-out streetlight, clearly hadn’t dressed for the weather. Despite the relative warmness of the night, it was still early in the spring and no sane person should be out at nighttime wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and leggings. She glanced left and right, like she was checking for something, and slowly began walking again.

     Henry then made a split-second, probably terrible decision.

     “Lucy?” he called, stepping out.

     The wooziness from moving too fast should have gone away by now. Right?

     Lucy turned around, squinting into the darkness behind her.

     Henry started to call out again when his voice, without warning, gagged in his throat. His brain didn’t register what was happening for a moment or two, but then it clicked into place and, with a burning thought of “oh,  _ dammit!” _ he threw himself back around the corner and into the alleyway.

     “Henry?” Lucy asked hesitantly. Not loudly, really, but loudly enough for Henry, now in immense discomfort from the rushing of blood pounding in his ears and the horrible sick feeling welling up in his throat, to hear her.

     Or someone like Henry, anyway.

     Footsteps. Lucy, curious, was drawing nearer. “Henry? You there?” The steps paused and Lucy gave a tiny snort of a laugh. “I’m just talking to myself, aren’t I.”

     Hyde blinked his eyes open again, the fear and exasperation he had been fighting with only moments ago dissolving into anger. He stepped out again silently. Lucy had her back turned was was preparing to walk away again. Two strides were enough to bring him near enough to lay a hand on her shoulder.

     Lucy jumped, letting out a tiny noise of shock. Hyde leaned around close to her neck without missing a beat, his whisper icy. “If you turn around I’ll kill you.”

     She stood stock-still. “I… sorry. For a second I thought you were someone else.”

     “For a second, I almost was.” Not bothering to explain the cryptic sentence, Hyde ran one finger across her upper back, over her shoulder blades and down her other arm. “Did you miss me?”

     “You’re a murderer,” Lucy got out, every muscle tense with a mixture of anger and fear. “The police, everybody’s looking for you.”

     “So?” A ruthless smile was in his voice this time as he rested his free hand on the side of her neck. The panic of having again transformed unwillingly had gone, leaving only a bad aftertaste and a towering temper. 

     Lucy swallowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this chapter warrant a trigger warning? I'm not sure, but if you think it does don't be afraid to tell me. Oh, and both my proofreaders for this chapter worked together to come up with the summary, which ended up being a unanimously agreed-upon phrase which I can't even deny. Happy reading!


	25. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry notices something, Gabriel learns something, and everyone envies Poole because he just doesn't have to give a shoot.

     Henry Jekyll was sitting in his lab, head on desk in the earliest hours of the morning, too tired and miserable to even freak out.

     It was painful to think of simpler times when his biggest life problem was getting to class late. Now he couldn’t go a day without fearing for his life and the lives of his friends. Rolling sideways, he looked at his hand on the desk next to his face, wondering. He- no, Hyde, he wasn’t that thing, that thing wasn’t him- was becoming so volatile, so ready to take over, so completely…

     Hyde was faster, Henry reflected. Hyde was faster, stronger; he healed scarily quickly from what Henry had experienced, he jumped higher, he was just  _ better. _

     He was shorter.

     Was he?

     The first time Edward had met Lucy, he had been too short to whisper in her ear. Now, only a few months later, he could reach her easily. What was happening to him?

     I am a scientific mind, he told himself firmly, twining his hands in his hair, tangled and snarled with days of neglect. I can't just start being superstitious, there has to be some sort of reasonable explanation.

     Yet the only thing he could think of was good and evil. And by the looks of things- not to mention the heights of things- silly as it sounded, evil was winning.

***

     Ding, ding.

     Gabriel grumbled something unintelligent to himself, rolled over in bed and ignored it.

     Ding, ding.

     Getting out of bed and complaining incoherently to himself as he sat up with bleary eyes to grab at his phone, Gabriel finally picked up.

     “Hello?”

     “Gabriel, nice to know you're already awake. Well, being a university student, I'm not surprised.” An indulgent chuckle fizzed through the connection. “Come over to the staff offices as soon as you can. You remember my room number, surely?”

     “Yessir.” It was only half-sarcastic. “I'll be right down.”

_      Uuuuuugh. _

     Guest wasn't an unreasonable man, Gabriel thought, grabbing his bag. He normally let people sleep, unless it was something ridiculously important.

     Something like…

     Oh.

     “I'mhereProfessorwhat’sgoingon?” Gabriel managed less than a minute later, barrelling around a corner and into Guest’s office. Guest laughed good-naturedly and waved the student in. “Good to see you, Gabriel. I thought you'd be interested in this.”

     The older man was sitting in a wheeled office chair which he pushed away from the desk with his feet, revealing the computer monitor he sat before. “Take a look.”

     A list of numbers and figures decorated the screen in lines and lines, with a familiar email address typed out at the top. Gabriel stared. “Is that-?”

     “Our friend Hyde's supposed email address.” Guest nodded thoughtfully in affirmation. “It took some time, but I've traced it to the last WiFi router on which it was used.” Noticing Gabriel's bewildered look, the professor chuckled again. “An advanced technology course and a touch of… more obscure Web knowledge might benefit you, Mister Utterson. Ask your friend Thomas.”

     Not giving Gabriel enough time to process his words, Guest plowed on. “Anyway. The router is somewhere on this academy's campus, which came as a surprise to me. It either means that Hyde is a student here, which is possible, or another student is sending these messages either pretending to be Hyde or on his behalf. In any scenario, I’d like to ask of you a favor.

     “This won’t be easy, but you’re a very committed young man, and I’m confident that you can manage. Going around campus, I’d like you to find out which room this router is in- who owns it, and who uses it. I know it’s a big task, and there are probably ways to make it easier, but for things like these I still think traditional is better.” Guest fixed his student with a clear, searching gaze. “You up to it?”

     Gabriel, already with one foot out the door, nodded.

     “Gabriel? It’s two-thirty.”

     “…Right. Just, um, going to bed.”

     Guest smirked in a very knowing, boyish way and waved him off.

***

     “…Nope, sorry.”

     “Not our router number.”

     “Different company.”

     “If you’re selling anything, f*ck off.”

     “Router? Oh nah, don’t have one. I use Jess’s, next door. You’re looking great today, though.”

     Gabriel had made his way around to at least three different apartments around campus by lunchtime, with not a single new lead. He was on the verge of desperation when he knocked on the next door in the hall before registering which one it was.

     “Coming!”

     Clunk.

     “Ah, sh*t. Just a second!”

     Clink, crack.

     “ _ Sh*****t  _ sh*tsh*t _.  _ Sorry!”

     The door opened and Gabriel was faced with a very flustered-looking Poole. “Hi, Gabe.”

     “Hey. You wouldn’t happen to recognize this wifi router number, would you?” Gabriel held out a piece of paper, which the other boy took and squinted at. “You know what, I’m not sure. I’ll go check.”

     Gabriel stepped inside as Poole wheeled himself away from the door and into a side room to find the router. Poole had knocked a ceramic bowl off the counter in his haste to answer the door, cracking it to bits- had he been expecting someone? Idly, Gabriel started picking the chunks of pottery off the floor.

     “Gabe? Yeah, the numbers matched. That’s this router,” Poole called, making his way back to the front room. “What’s up? Why did you ask?”

     Gabriel froze for a second, mind going blank. Snapping back to reality and placing the pieces of bowl back on the kitchen counter, he physically felt his entire face brighten up. “Really?” That had been easier than he had thought.

     Oh.

     The thing was, it also meant…

_      Oh _ .

     “Yeah, that’s this router,” Poole said brightly and completely obliviously, wheeling himself over to a corner of the room and grabbing his laptop off the coffee table on the way. “You can sit down if you want. But really, why did you want to know? You taking up stalking as a habit?”

     Gabriel gave the arbitrary someone’s-just-told-a-joke-that’s-funny-but-not-really laugh and took a tense seat. “Poole, do you know anything about the Carew murder case?”

     “Well that was blunt,” Poole commented. “Not much, really. Only what the news sites put out, and that wasn’t a lot. ‘New York Academy Professor Dies of Fatal Injuries’, blah blah, no specifics. I guess the people here don’t want to ruin our rep as a good place to send your kids. Guest gave a quote, though, and he mentioned the name Hyde as the likeliest suspect. Weird name, I know, but it must be a gang thingy or something.” He shrugged and returned to his computer.

     Thomas Poole didn’t seem like the type to work for a criminal, not to mention the fact that anyone who had met Hyde face-to-unnerving-face wouldn’t be able to say his name without reacting. Gabriel opened his mouth to ask a question, but Poole was already brightly chatting on.

     “I keep telling Haz to own up and use this wifi, but he doesn’t want to pay for it so he uses Danny’s from next door. We’re supposed to share the cost, but since Haz technically doesn’t use it he complains that he doesn’t have to pay, so it’s Henry and I paying a sixth more each, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s annoying, you know? And then Henry goes and complains that he doesn’t use his laptop or phone on this wifi a lot, because he either goes to the library or doesn’t use it at all (you know how he hates using technology), but he’s easier to convince than Haz is, so at least it’s not  _ just _ me paying for it. He is right, though, when he says he doesn’t use it a lot. I checked a little while ago just so I could prove him wrong but he’s only sent one email in the last month or so so I shouldn’t be one to-”

     Gabriel shot to his feet. “Where’s Henry?”

     Bemusedly, Poole glanced up over the top edge of his laptop. “Not here. Check in his lab, I’d sa- where are you going?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A helpful list of the fastest things known to mankind:  
> \- Light  
> \- A motivated Gabriel  
> This has been a helpful list of the fastest things known to mankind thank you for tuning in
> 
> And I'm only just noticing how often Henry monologues and does the Reflections tm tm so thank you for bearing with me through those, happy reading y'all


	26. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry is really tired and still won't say he's in love, dammit.

     There came an urgent knock at Henry’s lab door.

     Stubbornly ignoring it, he stared tiredly at one wall. Whoever it was could see him from where he sat, so if they wanted something, they could yell at him. Until then, he was too utterly drained to move.

     “Henry, I know you’re there,” Gabriel called, his voice muffled by the wood of the door. “I just want to talk for a second.”

     It took a few more seconds, but finally Henry got up and, rubbing the black spots of a headache out of his eyes, opened the door.

     The other student appraised him with a practiced eye. Henry had given up even _trying_ to look okay. His clothes were rumpled, hair unwashed, skin sallow, and worst of all, there was some sort of hollow sense of defeat in his eyes. “Come in.”

     “I was just talking to Poole in your room,” Gabriel started, cutting straight to the chase as was his habit, but stopped. Henry didn’t look like he was in any kind of position to say anything. All he was doing was looking, staring at Gabriel’s chin while he talked. He didn’t seem like he was able to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

     Gabriel paused, then walked into the lab. “Are you okay?”

     Henry’s drily raised eyebrow was all the answer he needed. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

     They sat in silence for a few increasingly awkward seconds before Gabriel’s inquisitive nature got the better of him and he got back to the topic at hand. “Is this… because of Hyde?”

     At this, Henry glanced up and made direct eye contact with his friend, and Gabriel, despite months of experience, jumped. For a second, it had looked like his irises were completely black, so dark that they seemed to suck the light from- anyway. This whole Hyde investigation was putting him on edge. Henry’s eyes were brown, as they’d always been brown. _Jeez, Gabriel. Calm down_.

     Henry didn’t speak for a few moments. “…Gabe, I know how it sounds, that this- this murderer and I worked together. But I promise, I’ll _swear_ , Gabe, I haven’t seen him since, and I’ll never see him again. He’s horrible, and it was just stupid of me to, to not realize it until now.”

     He fell silent again. Gabriel watched him with concern. He trusted the chemistry student with quite a lot, despite having only known him for a little over one school term, and there was no doubt that he was intelligent. He wanted to trust Henry, he really did, but could he?…

     “All right,” he said at last. “I believe you. Just… try to take care of yourself, all right?”

     Henry nodded miserably, looking away at the floor.

     The silence dragged on, quickly turning awkward. Gabriel spoke up again. “All right. One last thing- I was just wondering if you use Thomas’s wifi router.”

     After Henry affirmed that yes, he did use Poole’s wifi router and no one calls him Thomas now, Gabe, seriously, get with the times, Gabriel took his leave, thinking. Guest had said that the email, Hyde’s email, had been sent to something connected to Tho- Poole’s router, and Poole seemed innocent. Clueless, even. So what was going on?

     Was Hyde there? Had Hyde been there? Had Hyde used Henry's computer? Was Henry being blackmailed? Was Henry being honest when he said he would cut off contact with Hyde? And worst of all, was Henry Jekyll, his friend, forging for a murderer?

***

     As soon as Gabriel was gone, Henry dropped his head back onto the desk, breathing out heavily. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone to sleep- was it two, three days ago? Ever since…

     Ever since he realized how easy it was to become Hyde in his sleep. Before this, the sleep-transformations were occasional and far in between, but lately, they’d been happening more and more, even when unprovoked in any way. It was pure luck how he managed to get down here before anyone noticed him, and mix the compound and change back, just in time to sit around and force himself to stay awake for another day. Eventually, he took to locking himself in the lab every night, just to be safe.

     For the safety of others, or of himself? Maybe he was just the world’s biggest selfish 18-year-old moron. One that happened to have a murderous alternate persona, but that was beside the point.

     The problems with transforming when he fell asleep wouldn’t be so bad if only he could stay put and control himself. But no, every single time it was a fight against every single damn part of him to force himself to stay in the lab, and some nights it failed. Some nights he’d break, and Hyde would go out and… and do things Henry didn’t even want to mention to himself. Most of the time it involved women, and not always in the most appropriate fashions.

     Women, fights, alcohol, and often a mix of the three.

     There was one line he wouldn’t cross, though. He refused to let himself meet Lucy again. She was stronger-minded than she seemed, Henry told himself as firmly as he could under his exhausted circumstances. Despite how reluctant she was to seek help, she still had that ability.

     Not to mention, there was some part of Henry- not the Hyde part, no, some better part- that… that enjoyed having her around. She was a good person, despite what life had put her through.

     Henry groaned and cradled his head in his hands. He was exhausted, and it probably showed all too clearly. He could practically feel the dark circles under his eyes, they were so visible. His hair was getting too long, and it was probably disgusting. It was too big of a risk to even consider smelling his shirt. His thoughts were blurrier than his vision.

     The sun was setting and the whole world was on fire.

     Transforming into Edward Hyde felt as natural as sliding into a hot bath and before he knew it, he was waking up with his clothes hanging loose from his frame and heavy black hair obscuring empty eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't realized it yet, yes, Henry's hecka in love with Lucy, he's just still in denial because of what Hyde does to her. Just admit it, ya moron.  
> Anyway, this is a mostly not-horrible short filler chapter before all heck breaks loose in the coming chapters! ;) Happy reading!


	27. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiioot.
> 
> Trigger warning: Blood, torture, death, injury, abuse, gore, pain, graphic violence, uh... need I go on?

     At first, a stab of horror and dread spiked through his mind before it faded like the light on the horizon, and he got to his feet. His fatigue had vanished, replaced with a grin.

     But immediately afterwards, the grin vanished as well. If someone caught him, and gathered enough backup, he was a dead man.

     There was a moment where he stood unmoving, thinking.   
     Then I won’t let myself be caught, he decided, casually clicking the lights off and walking out with the unhurried patience of a man who has all the time in the world.

     Inside the empty room, lit only from the humming fluorescent lights in the hallway, its door creaking in a nonexistent breeze, a phone screen awoke and buzzed.

_      Henry! Guest told me the police caught someone who they think is Hyde!! _

_      Henry u there? _

     …

_      One (1) missed call _

***

     Even for Hyde, it was startlingly easy to hit the thin older man over the head and take his cell phone before he even had an inkling of what was going on. Hyde laughed, wiped a stray smear of blood from his knuckles, and entered the number.

     A call was safer than a text in this situation. The phone rang.

     And again.

     Again.

     The voice was crackly through the bad speaker, but it worked. “Hello?”

     Hyde didn't speak for a moment.

     “Hello?” Her voice was less certain now. “Anyone there?”

     “33 Clairmund Street,” he said calmly, smoothly. “You have fifteen minutes.”

     “Wait, who- ah…” The hope dropped from her voice as she realized. Hyde grinned.

     “You know what?” he asked softly. “I’m feeling kind tonight. Show up and you’ll never have to again.”

     Stunned silence. “You’re saying-”

     “Yes,” he breathed, turning the word into a hiss, and hung up, dropping the phone next to the head of its unconscious owner and heading for Clairmund Street.

     There was a shattering as it broke to pieces.

***

     Lucy hadn’t seen the Spider in days.

     It was like he had just… vanished, and as strange as it was, it wasn’t unwelcome. Hyde, too, had disappeared, which was less surprising, seeing as half the police force in NYC was looking for him. The problem now was how Emma had started hounding her everywhere. She had always been possessive, somewhat controlling, but it was like something had moved her over the edge and everything Lucy did was wrong. It was crushing.

     But then Hyde called, for the first time in a month or more, and said he would never force her to do anything again.

     After years of less-than-easy living, Lucy had learned not to trust people easily. If someone offered free candy, she’d be the one who’d kick it out of their hand. Ever since she’d been forced into the Spider’s group, that was just the way she’d been. It wasn’t safe, not as a young lady in a big city. Yeah, she could defend herself- but she’d been taught all her life that that was the wrong decision.

_      “Options aren't an option, Riss.” _

     She had options, she always had. Right?

     So now here she was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she went, Hyde would release her, but then again, he wasn’t to be trusted. If she didn’t…

     What would happen then?

     She bit her lip and got to her feet, leaving the room she shared with a girl called Rachel. She'd go, she decided. If something went wrong, though, it would be good to have backup.

_      "Text me anytime!” _

_      “Thanks, Henry.”  _ Their conversation from how long ago now?

     Hmm.

***

     Henry’s phone, sitting lonely on the lab table, buzzed once, twice, again.

     No one answered.

***

     Lucy had spent a lot of her younger life running from things. This being said, she was now very good at it. It took her less than five minutes to get from her part of the campus to Henry’s apartment. She made her way to the basement first, seeing as he practically lived there now.

     Nearly right away, she noticed something off. The room was dark, and she was about to turn away and look somewhere else- there was no time to waste- when she realized what was so strange.

     The door was open. Moving around on its hinges ever so slightly in an intangible breeze, making the little ugly noises that old doors do. Lucy frowned at it, like it was the door’s fault that Henry wasn’t on the other side of it.

     Henry never even left his lab door unlocked, much less open. Hesitant, Lucy took a step forwards, and into the dark lab room.

     There was something unearthly about all this, she reflected. The inside of the room was dark, but the fluorescent hallway lights were leaking harshly through the doorway, making their eerie incessant buzz. The toneless white light was sparkling off beakers full of unusual liquids and little sharp shiny things not meant to be seen.

     She should go. Henry clearly wasn’t here, she didn’t need to waste any more time snooping. Who knew what Hyde would do to her if she was late? Calling Henry would be way more efficien-

     Something caught her eye.

     A dusty cardboard crate with bold black Sharpie lettering scrawled across it sat gloomily on a counter in one corner of the laboratory. Lucy made her way slowly around the lab desk in the middle of the room and leaned over to read what the box said, just to make sure she hadn’t read it wrong.

     SURGICAL KNIVES

     Prying up a flap on the old box, Lucy confirmed that it did indeed contain what was advertised.

_      Hmm. _

***

     “You’re almost late,” Hyde said softly, back turned, gazing idly out of the second-story bedroom window of 33 Clairmund Street. Lucy, standing in the doorway, gripped the handle of the long thin knife tucked up her sleeve tighter. She swallowed, but didn’t respond.

     Hyde, without bothering to turn around, backed up a step in the small room, sitting down on the old-fashioned bed. “It’s fabulous, how the government is nice enough to leave all these empty houses around. People say they’re haunted, you know.” At this, he turned his head slightly, looking at Lucy out of the corner of one eye. “Afraid of ghosts, maybe.”

     Lucy wasn’t sure what he was talking about. At this point, she rarely was. It was clear that Hyde was long past insane.

     He looked out the window again. The smile on his face was hidden, but it was eerily clear in his voice. “Are you? Afraid of ghosts?”

     “…Ghosts aren’t real.” Lucy’s voice was hesitant, though not because of the obvious reason. She took a step nearer to Hyde’s turned back, slowly, slowly drawing out the knife. Thank every God out there, he didn’t turn around.

     “Just because they aren’t real doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you.” He lifted a hand to his own face, running the fingertips over his cheek and jaw like he was making sure he was still there.

     Instead of wasting time trying to puzzle out Hyde’s seemingly meaningless saying, Lucy climbed onto the other side of the bed, sitting just behind Hyde. She licked her lips, gripping the knife in her left hand, and laid her free hand on Hyde’s left shoulder.

     He leaned into the touch just slightly, the silhouette of a twisted smile appearing on his face.

     Lucy turned the knife in her hand, the handle pointing upwards, the tip angled directly for Hyde’s back.

     She pulled back and swung.

     At the last second, just as the knife made its way for Hyde’s lower back, he twisted to his left, eyes widening as he realized.

     The blade, fairly sharp despite years of rust and disuse, sank through clothes and skin and flesh.

     And it stuck, just below the heart.

     Lucy tore the knife out towards her, leaving a gash in the fabric that was already beginning to fill with blood. The blade went in again, below the first, then again, deepening the second cut. She scrambled backward, forgetting everything she had learned from the Spider about fighting.

     Hyde slid off the bed and fell to the ground on his knees, not moving a muscle. He didn't blink, he didn't twitch, he didn't breathe. Cool liquid was running down his ribs from a deep tear in his skin. Lucy was about to run, the deed done, her freedom ensured, but she stopped, primal dread sinking in.

     Hyde was moving again. Somehow, this monster was still alive.

     The pale, bleeding figure dragged himself to his feet, laughing uncontrollably. His back was still turned, blood soaking his side. He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder, eyes wide and deranged, grinning from ear to ear.

     He lunged, and it took only seconds for Lucy to find herself pinned flat to the floor on her back, her knife in Hyde’s hand, and it was in those seconds that she realized she was going to die.

***

     The first cut he made was on her neck, just above the collarbone. He drew the rusty blade slowly along, tracing the bone all the way across her chest and not bothering to muffle the delicious screams she made.

     Leaning close, Hyde giggled madly in her ear and slid the knife along her jawline, digging the blade in just a little deeper.

     “Aren’t you a stubborn little b*tch?” he murmured. “You just won’t die even when you know what’s best for you.”

     Lucy didn’t make a sound.

     There was a sharp stab of pain in Hyde’s stomach and he remembered the fact that he may or may not have been in the process of dying. A flash of ugly anger appeared across his face, twisting the features into an inhuman mask.

     The grin returned. 

     “Okay,” he whispered. “If you want to do it that way. Let’s speed this up a little, shall we?"

     He stabbed the knife into the side of her stomach and ripped it along in the same way she had cut him.

     She screamed quite a good deal more than Hyde had.

***

     A moment later, blood was everywhere and Hyde was still laughing.

     Lucy could barely breathe, every thought dulled to nothing. She couldn’t feel anything except for that horrible ringing pain in her throat and stomach and everyplace.

     “You should have known better.” Hyde was still talking, partly to her, partly to himself. “You’re just a hopeless wh*re with nothing in your future. You’ll die right here.”

     Lucy could barely see at this point. She just wanted to close her eyes, just for one second, it would be so much easier to just rest for a little while and push the hurting away-

     All those things she hadn’t done. Timothy was still out there somewhere, wasn’t he? What was going to happen to him? Heh. Way back when, she had thought she was going to be able to change the world but now? Now, in the end, she was just dying here.

     Hyde’s side was still bleeding, but now there was some other pain forcing its way through his stomach.

     He scowled. “You are stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked Lucy darkly, stabbing straight into her stomach. Another laugh formed on his lips as he felt something in her abdomen give. “Oh, dear. I sure hope that wasn’t anything important.”

     The pain was getting worse, and Hyde hesitated, but then he realized what was happening.

     “No-” he started furiously, beginning to stand, but then, with a wrench of horrible nausea and cramping that wracked his body, he dropped to his knees again before Lucy, holding the knife still buried in her stomach.

     It hit him like a brick wall and he gasped.

     “Oh God. Oh God, Lucy, are you- can you hear me?” Henry whispered, pulling out the knife and dropping it aside like a poisoned thing, scrambling wildly for something, anything. His jacket. He pulled off his jacket and desperately tried to move Lucy’s torn sweater out of the way, out of the cuts,  _ put pressure on the wounds _ , that's what they said in first aid, right?

     Oh God, this was his fault. This was all his-

     “Wh- Henry?” Lucy mumbled, squinting up at him.

     This didn’t make sense. Just a second ago, Hyde had been there, wearing this same outfit. Hyde had made like he was about to leave, and then he had bent over, and then… and then?

     Was Henry…?

     “Lucy, I’m so, so sorry.” Henry’s voice cracked. “Don’t die, I’m sorry, please don’t die, this is my fault, please don’t die… forgive me.” At this point, he was fumbling for words, searching with panic for something to do, something to say, but then Lucy found the strength somewhere inside her to raise a finger and hold it over Henry’s lips, making him fall silent.

     “I don’t… know what’s going on,” she managed, “but I don’t have enough time left to blame you for anything.”

     She grinned a tiny bit, that little one-sided smirky smile.

     She began, “I…”

     And it froze on her face and she was gone.

***

     Henry knelt there for a couple of seconds, then got slowly to his feet, expression falling empty. He could already feel the horrible draining feeling that predated Hyde’s return, and it felt natural as opening his eyes after a full night’s sleep.

     And he didn’t care anymore.

     Wrapping an arm around his bleeding side, Hyde staggered out of the bedroom of the house on Clairmund Street and slowly made his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this absurdly long and vividly graphic chapter makes up for me not updating for like three weeks. Also, for anyone asking "How the heck is Hyde still alive after being stabbed like twice in the side below the heart like that??", well... Hyde isn't very stabbable. He's very badly wounded, but he dies slower than most people. You'll see what happens later;))) Love you guys, happy reading!
> 
> Summary: Hyde leaves the lab room, against his (perhaps better) judgement. Gabriel messages Henry, who has left his phone in the lab room, saying that the police force has caught someone who they believe is Hyde. Henry, obviously, does not receive this message. Hyde steals a stranger's phone and uses it to call Lucy, saying that if she meets with him within fifteen minutes, he will never force her to do anything again- she will effectively be free. Lucy debates with herself on this for a while, then decides to go, but first makes a call to her trusted friend Henry (A/N: Lucy you MORON) for backup. Henry does not receive this call either. She decides to go visit his lab in person, but finds the room empty and unlocked. She finds an old surgical knife and takes it with her (A/N: LUCY NO). Inside the abandoned house where Hyde has decided to meet with her, Hyde is facing the window away from the door, giving Lucy the perfect opportunity to stab him (A/N: LUUCYYY). Hyde then proceeds to cut her up pretty badly, laughing all the way HA HA HA (A/N: to the tune of jingle bells). To Hyde's massive surprise, some weird freak happening of the compound in his body changes him suddenly back to Henry, who realizes what he's done. Lucy breathes her emotional last breath, the weird compound mishap runs out and Henry changes back to Hyde, and Hyde leaves the body there as he walks away, with something inside him snapped, both literally and figuratively.


	28. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Winter cobbles a whole load of small scenes, a lot of timeskipping, one too many perspective changes and, all in all, a lot of asterisks into a somewhat clunky chapter that serves to kick the plot in the seat of the pants and so move it forward.

     Gabriel had been  _ so sure _ that he could be the one to catch Hyde.

     But  _ nooo _ , just two days ago Guest had called him to announce that Hyde had been captured- a drug lord with a base not far from the school, denying any connection with the name of Hyde, going by The Spider. It explained why no one had caught a whiff of Hyde for so long- he naturally had several alternate identities in New York’s underworld.

     At first, Gabriel had been elated. At long last, this whole messy business could be cleaned up, Henry untangled from this whole thing, the school fairly safe once again.

     But still, Gabriel had been  _ that _ close. Now, he was going to find a whole new project to work on and everything.

     And Henry still wasn’t responding.

     Checking his phone, Gabriel counted twenty-six unread text messages and eight missed phone calls that he had sent Henry from yesterday night until now.

_      This couldn't be right,  _ Gabriel thought. Henry should have been relieved that Hyde had been caught, and Henry never shut up when he was happy. At the very least, he would have dropped by Gabriel's room, but nope. Not a sign of him. Maybe he got a new phone.

     If there was one person who would know what was going on, it would be Haz. He was looser-tongued than Henry, and you could get any information out of him if you phrased it right. The problem was, he wasn't responding to any of Gabriel's texts either. Maybe it was his own phone that wasn't working properly?

     Fine, he decided. Where technology failed, humans had to take over. He’d go and find Henry himself.

***

     “Oh, hi, Rick. How’ve you been?”

     “Not bad, not bad. Haven’t seen you in a while, though. Still on that big Hyde thingy?”

     “No, the police got him.”

     “Ouch.” Rick made a sympathetic face. “That must’ve been rough.”

     “You know me too well.” Gabriel smiled. “That’s actually why I was coming this way. I was going to see Henry, you know, Jekyll? In that basement room he uses as a lab. He knew Hyde personally, but it’s not easy to get anything out of him. Before you ask, I don’t think he’s in liaison with Hyde or anything, but there’s definitely something funny going on.”

     Rick leaned in and whispered in Gabriel’s ear, an evil smirk painted on his face. “What if they’re having an affa-?”

     “RICK, NO.”

     He shrugged, still smirking. “Whatever, whatever. Get your head out of the clouds, Utters, we’re there.”

     Gabriel started paying attention just in time to avoid walking into the wall of the building. There was one window, set low in the wall, that gave a lovely view of the lab room, and there was Henry, sitting at his table, head down. He wasn’t asleep, just stubbornly staring at something on the wall- a shelf, maybe.

     Gabriel knocked on the glass. “Henry?” he called loudly.

     Henry’s head shot up so fast he fell backwards off the lab stool. Rick laughed, but when Gabriel shot him a stern stare, shut up. “Henry, open the window.”

     Henry made a confused face.

     “O- pen the  _ WIN- _ dooow,” Gabriel mouthed, gesturing vaguely. Understanding at last, Henry stood, walked over and cracked open the window. He was limping slightly, favoring his left side.

     “Hello,” he said. He looked terrible, but that was quickly becoming his normal appearance.

     “Hey, Henry. How are you?”

     “Not great,” he replied wearily. “It’s all right, though, I’ll- I’ll be all right.”

     “You should come for a walk with us,” Rick suggested brightly, looking a little awkward. He clearly hadn’t forgotten his own interaction with Hyde, and the lost money.

     “It’s nice of you, really, but I can’t,” Henry told them. “I’m- I’m super busy, with coursework and all, and, and, and things like that.”

     “We can talk from here, then,” offered Gabriel. “There’s a lot of important things that have happened lately, and I think you should know abou- Henry?”

     Henry had frozen, looking like he was listening for something. His eyes went wide, and he slammed the window shut. A second later, a dirty old hand towel hanging from the curtain rod shot across the glass, obscuring the room completely.

     Rick looked at Gabriel, who looked back at him with dread. Both students had seen the expression on Henry’s face just before he had disappeared- a horrible, unexplainable kind of terror and despair. The two, reaching a silent agreement, turned and walked slowly away.

     Plan A had failed. It was time to talk to Haz Lanyon.

***

     “Hey, Poole. Is Haz here?”

     “Nope. Haven't seen him since, what, six days ago? I don't even think he ever even comes here anymore.”

     “Any idea where he might be?”

     “Not really. If it were past eight p.m., I'd suggest the Five of Spades, but he's almost never there before lunchtime.”

     “It's worth a shot, anyway. See you around.”

     Gabriel left the room, sighing. That had been virtually useless. As good-natured as Poole was, he was far from any great help. To the Five of Spades it was, then.

***

     The restaurant/bar combo was very nearly empty. A few penniless drunks lounged around the center few tables, the bartender was nearly asleep behind the bar, and there was Haz, sitting in the corner, empty cup lying knocked over next to his hand.

     Gabriel made his way over as quietly as he could. Haz's head was down on the table, but he was awake. He looked miserable.

     “hi gabe,” he said, drunk enough to have eradicated capital letters completely.

     “Hi. What's going on?”

     “justa bit tired,” he slurred slightly.

     Gabriel nodded slowly. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he asked.

     Haz giggled. “you already di’,” he informed Gabriel proudly. “..bu’ yep. you can.”

     “Do you know what happened to Henr-”

     “nOPE”

     “Excuse me?”

     “ _ N O P E _ ” Haz insisted again, panic turning his speech from composed sentences into something a confused Tumblr blogger might type. He attempted to escape the conversation by walking away, but that ended badly and Gabriel, rolling his eyes, helped him back up into his chair.

     “dont talk about him,” he announced firmly. “never again.”

     “...Maybe I should get you back home. We can have this conversation when you, uh, regain your ability to talk.”

     Letting Haz lean on his shoulder, Gabriel walked away, rubbing his temples with his free hand.  _ Teens these days _ , the teen thought, not for the first nor the last time.

***

     “So, what happened?” Gabriel asked the next day, bursting into the apartment before Haz had even woken up. Poole had already left for the day, leaving Gabriel to deal with Haz's hangover.

     Haz, lying floppily on the sofa, made a noise something like “kxzhmtblltfdrthphbtuuh”.

     “Come on,” Gabriel bugged persistently, ignoring the fact that he desperately wanted to ask how Haz had created that sound with his vocal chords. “I get it if you're worried for Henry, but-”

     Somehow, Haz suddenly had the energy to jump up dizzily, take two steps, and grasp Gabriel's shoulders with a dazed strength. “Gabriel,” he said hoarsely. “Please listen to me on this.  _ Don’t talk to me about Henry Jekyll ever again. _ ”

     Gabriel frowned. “Bu- why? He’s- he was your best friend, y-”

     “I know a lot more about him than I ever knew before,” he said stiffly. “He's disgusting. I swear, Haz, I'm never talking to him again, he's messed up his- his whole  _ life _ .”

_      More than you, Mister Day-Drinker? _ Gabriel wanted to retort, but he held his tongue.

     Haz laughed, quietly but bitterly. “After I’m dead, you’ll know everything. And I’ll do anything to hope that once I’m dead Henry’ll be dead too.”

     Gabriel blinked. That was deep, for Haz. “So I… suppose you don't want to talk?”

     “I don't mind talking, but for God's sake, talk about something other than  _ him. _ ” He sighed, sat back down, and rested his hungover head in his hands. “Oh, and keep your voice down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How... does Haz even format his voice like that? Anyway, sorry for the late chapter update! Schoolwork has been taking an axe to my head lately. Happy reading!


	29. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh shiiiiiiiiiioot.

     Not so many nights ago, Hyde staggered from the building where Lucy's corpse lay. His side was soaked through with strangely cool blood, and despite being quicker to heal than any normal human, it didn't change the fact that he was still dying. His only chance at this point was to get back to the lab and patch himself up, as himself.

     He couldn't run. He couldn't move any faster than a stumbling walk, and that alone was enough to anger him. With a wordless snarl somewhere between fury and fear frozen on his face, he slowly limped back towards the basement room.

     Into the front doors.

     Down the stairs.

     Two steps forward.

     Open the wooden door.

     Wait.

     No.

     The door was already open, and the lights were on. Someone was already there.

     Hyde staggered and fell against the door, pushing it all the way open. He straightened back up again just in time to meet the panicked eyes of Hastie Lanyon.

***

     Haz’s argument with Henry had been eating at him for at least two weeks by now. It was silly, really, to hold a grudge like this over a little thing. All he had wanted to do was apologize, have a chat, and maybe try and get Henry and Lucy on another date.

     What he wasn't expecting was Edward F**king Hyde to walk in, covered in blood.

     He had never met Hyde personally before, but this could be no one else. Gabriel had been talking about Hyde for weeks, describing everything about him. _ “A really short guy, and- well, not ugly per se, but really weird-looking. Unsettling. Honestly, kind of horrible. No, really horrible. It’s hard to explain. You’d have to see him to know him, but I swear, Haz, if you ever did see him, you’d know who he was.” _

     And damn, was it ever obvious.

     Haz leaped to his feet, going white, but Hyde pushed him aside with a growl and made his way straight to one of the shelves of the room. He began to pull down containers and envelopes, carelessly dropping old books and bottles of compounds to the ground.

     Haz brought a hand slowly up to his arm where Hyde had bumped into him. For some crazy reason, he shuddered. Just being close to this guy was enough to give him the feeling of a fork on a chalkboard.

     The only inconsistency in Gabriel’s description, Haz thought in the way that people sometimes thought while in shock, was that Gabe had said Hyde was short.  _ Haz _ was short. This Hyde guy was not.

     “You’re Hyde,” he said. Not very eloquently, but then again, that tended to happen.

     Hyde turned to glare at him. “Very goddamn observant of you,” he spit. He spun away again to face the shelf, coughing. Red dots splattered the floor.

     Haz took a step back. He had his phone here- he could call the police, or Gabe, or someone. He was halfway through pulling it out of his pocket, too, when Hyde turned to look at him again, tightly holding two or three bottles and a small brown package of something.

     “Haz,” he said softly, dangerously. A complete change in tone. “You will put the phone down if you ever want to see Henry Jekyll alive again.”

     Haz froze. “What did you do with him?”

     “Nothing you should be worried about  _ as long as you call no one,” _ Hyde snarled. With what appeared to be a huge effort, he calmed down again and put the bottles he held down on the table, then touched his hand briefly to his side. Soaked through with blood, Haz observed.

     Hyde lifted his hand again and looked at the blood on his fingers, then to Haz. His expression was wide-eyed and so completely blank that it drilled directly into the back of Haz’s head and stuck there.

     He was scared, Haz realized. Hyde was scared.

     In a showman’s voice, Hyde whispered his next words. “What you are about to see is going to change your  _ life _ .”

     He looked like a hunted animal, staring at Haz expressionlessly.

     “Y- you’re insane,” Haz told him, taking a step back. He was trapped in a room with a crazy murderer who was between himself and the door.

     Very suddenly, Hyde laughed, the sound sharp and just a little deranged. “Would you say that if you  _ knew _ ?”

     As Haz looked on, now backed up to the farthest wall from the door, Hyde staggered forwards and fell against the edge of the lab table. He scattered the things he had gathered from the shelf, taking one of these and one of that and pushing them into piles. 

     He pointed suddenly in Haz’s direction and Haz jumped before he realized that Hyde wasn’t pointing at him, but at a cabinet next to his head.

     “Graduated… glass,” he managed to say. “Four fifty.”

     Haz didn’t move from shock for a few seconds, then slowly opened the cabinet and pulled out the first 450-milliliter glass he found, not breaking eye contact with Hyde. Hyde held out his hand, waiting, but Haz didn’t give it to him.

     “First,” Haz said unsteadily, “tell me what’s going on. What did you do to Henry?”

     Just for a second, in a flash of fury, Hyde didn’t look human. It looked like something dark was moving under his pale skin, distorting him, pulling him apart, but Haz looked again and it was nothing.

     “You’ll see him soon enough,” Hyde enunciated slowly, his face a mask of poorly concealed anger. “Just. Give me. The glass.”

     Haz took a single step forwards and put the cylinder on the desk. Hyde practically lunged for it, pulling it towards himself, a harsh smile starting to form on his face. He started pouring things into it, chemicals and liquids and some sort of white powder.

     “If you’re making drugs,” Haz deadpanned, “I swear, Hyde, I w-” He shut up when Hyde gave him an icy glower and blatantly ignored him.

     His breathing was more labored now. It took him everything he had just to finish the compound.

     “I promised… to let you see Henry, didn’t I?” Hyde asked, every second word punctuated by a heavy breath, a slight smile appearing across his face once again.

     Haz didn’t answer. He didn’t like where this was going.

     Hyde staggered around the table, holding his side with one hand and the glass with the other, grin broadening. He leaned forward, staring up into Haz’s face. “You told him he could never separate the soul. You told him, you told him he was wasting his life.”

     Haz didn’t respond, frozen where he stood.

     Hyde gave a sharp, bitter laugh, grabbed his head, and pulled him into a deep kiss.

     His mouth tasted like blood.

     When Hyde broke away, he was still laughing. He abruptly raised the glass to his lips and drank.

     As Haz gazed on with horror, Hyde buckled to the ground, hissing with pain. His skin looked like it was melting, there were terrible writhing noises as his bones shifted, and worst of all, his eyes were wide open and staring hellwards like a dead man’s.

     Then it was over, and he looked up.

     Haz screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for going away for such a long time! Now that school's over for the year, you might be able to expect slightly more regular updates again.
> 
> I'd really love your feedback. If you've been following along with Duality, for a day or for six months, I'd really like to know what you guys think of this story. What do you like or dislike? What could I do better? What would you like to see? Leave a comment so I can keep improving and getting better as an author in general. Thank you all so much!
> 
> Also, if you have Tumblr and haven't followed "wintersnow-but-art" yet, put that on your to-do list! I post updates, art and other Duality things there, so if you want to check that out, please go ahead. (Note: some of the art is really old and I'm not proud of it, heh...)
> 
> And thank you all again! Just knowing that there are people out there that somewhat enjoy what I write means a lot to me.


	30. Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A news article, an email, and that damn will.

CRIME SHROUDING LOCAL INSTITUTE

NEW YORK- After three unusually suspicious deaths occurring at the New York University for Gifted Individuals, the institute is being closely investigated. Hastie Robert Lanyon (19) and Lucy Marilyn Harris (18) have both passed away within the last two weeks, the former by drug-induced suicide and the latter by suspected homicide.

“We’re[…] not yet sure as of yet whether or not Lanyon was the killer,” Inspector Fenwick Newcomen explained early Saturday morning, as head of the case. “We had previously detained someone who we suspected to be a criminal called Hyde, but we’re[…] beginning to have our doubts.” Criminology student Gabriel Utterson, also helping with the case, has expressed certainty both that Lanyon was completely innocent and that Hyde, who he believes to be the culprit, is yet at large.

The funeral service for the two students who passed away these last weeks will occur on Sunday, April 24th.

* * *

Rain streamed down. Black umbrellas flapped in the wind as the first of two shiny brown boxes was lowered into the ground. Some old man who had known nothing about either Haz nor Lucy extolled their virtues and how promising they had been. His words were meaningless.

In a black hoodie, holding an umbrella that was slowly falling apart into a mess of metal and fabric, Henry stared silently into the grave. An onlooker would have seen nothing wrong with him, aside from the overhanging grief that soaked the scene more thoroughly than the rain.

A pair of black shoes noiselessly came up next to him.

“Sorry, Henry,” Gabriel said softly. “I know that they were both important to you.”

They had been, but that wasn't why Henry felt so…

…so blank.

He knew that both these deaths had been his fault, and his fault only. At this point, he couldn't even deny it. He  _ was  _ Hyde. And directly or indirectly, Hyde was the reason that two of his closest friends were dead.

Henry looked at Gabriel, pulling his hood back and letting the rain fall through the umbrella’s holes into his hair. “We should go inside,” he said quietly, tonelessly.

Gabriel looked at him, surprised. Henry's once-long hair had been cut. Not well, either. It was short and choppy, like he had hacked it off in a panic.

But of course, Gabriel being himself, he didn't bring it up. He only looked on, as he always would. “Okay, let's go.”

The two of them silently made their way back inside, leaving the coffins to be buried in the rain.

***

Poole hadn’t gone to the funeral. His excuse was that he was ‘busy’, but he had never been able to… well,  _ stand _ funerals, no pun intended. The sadness there had always been too much.

And while he was sitting in his room, thinking, Poole got a text from Henry.

_ \- can you come to my lab _

Poole stared at his phone screen for a few seconds in exasperation. The lab was downstairs, and built before the building had been renovated with elevators.

_ \- …bro,  _ he sent.  _ how. _

_ \- oh srry _

_ \- um _

_ \- gimme a sec ill email you _

A few minutes later, an email notification popped up. It was from Henry.

_ I'm really sorry about not talking with you guys for the last little while. Can I ask a favor from you? _

_ There's a type of chemical I got off of eBay a little while ago. It's for my experiment and it's really important. I can't remember what it's called, but the username of the person selling it was mjane9066 or something. I know it kind of doesn't sound that great, but really, it's super important. _

_ Oh my God just please find it Poole I'm beggiNG Y _

 

And that was the end of the email.

Poole stared at his phone screen for a few long seconds, then gave a small breath, opened his computer, and began searching eBay.

Below the oblivious student trying to help his friend, barely a single floor away, there was a room where long ago a student called Henry Jekyll had made the breakthrough he had always dreamed of, a place of wonder and change and brand new starts.

And there, Henry rested his head in his hands, shaking.

His head stung in places where the scissors had clumsily nicked his scalp. The inside of his mouth had been chewed raw, and everything tasted like salt and iron.

And speaking of salt, that was the reason for most of his current distress.

His supply was running out.

Well, a few days ago, it hadn't been. Now, he had no idea where it had gone.

_ It was Haz, dammit _ , a very Hyde-like part of his mind snarled not long after Henry clicked “send” on his email to Poole.  _ Haz took it for revenge, I'll- _

_ I'll do what? _ Henry thought back at himself blankly _. He's dead, _ and the thought hurt him again and he dropped his head and closed his laptop and forced away the tears.

Without the salt, he'd be stuck as a murderer, the changes uncontrolled. He'd never be able to show his face again- every person in the city would know him when they saw him, and he'd be jailed or shot on sight. He would never be able to show the world what he had managed to create, everyone on earth would see this horrible shame he had brought upon himself and hate him for it. He needed the salt to stay human.

He looked up at the shelf, where his rapidly dwindling supply of the precious ingredient silently mocked him.

The shaking, the nausea, the horribleness that overcame him before every transformation began, and as much as he tried to force it down, he couldn't, just like every other time he had tried. He lowered his head to the desk before him in defeat and let Hyde take over his senses.

***

One day later, and Gabriel was staring down into his desk drawer with a small pile of papers, one of which was the will. None of this made  _ sense!  _ The murders, and Henry’s withdrawal, and the will, and everything. He just wanted things to go back to how they had been before, was that too much to ask? Maybe he’d go into law instead of criminology. It sounded calmer, if only marginally.

He stared down at that will, turning it over in his hands. He didn’t like holding on to it- the phrases were fine, but everything about it was still dedicated to Hyde. Maybe he’d return it to Henry, and maybe he could clear things up a bit. He got to his feet and started off down the hall.

Of course, as it always was of late, Henry’s apartment room was devoid of Henry. Poole was on his computer, casually ignoring Gabriel as friends do, so Gabriel just shrugged and put the will in the middle of the hallway, and left it there. He’d send Henry a text, and hopefully he’d find it s oon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving everyone on such an unexpected hiatus! My summer is turning out to be several times more busy than I anticipated, and everything is taking a toll on me. For the remainder of the summer, I hope to update more often if my schedule allows me to.


	31. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde makes a choice that might have consequences.

Henry’s phone buzzed.

Hyde, pacing around the table, picked it up and barely glanced at the screen before putting it down again and beginning to pace again-

What was that about a will?

_ \- Hey, Henry _

_ \- Since Hyde is out of the picture for your will I left it in your apartment in case you wanted to change anything _

_ \- Henry? _

_ \- Henry are you there? _

_ \- Stay safe okay? _

Hyde stared down at the small screen for a long moment, then let it fall to the table with a clatter. The slightest of smiles touched his face.

Finally, an excuse to go out that not even his better half would be able to disagree with.

Hyde pushed up the sleeves of the shirt that was now only a little too big for him and climbed out of the room.

Henry knew exactly what time Poole left for his classes, which meant Hyde did too, and he took the advantage of the time in which the apartment was empty to go and get the will. It was tricky getting to the apartment without being seen, but he managed it by climbing in through Henry's room window.

Poole was, as expected and planned, not there. Hyde made his way out of Henry's room and almost tripped over the will.

Scowling, he picked it up, stuffed it idly in one pocket, and was about to get out of there as soon as possible when some unknown gust of wind pushed Haz’s room door open.

Hyde stared into it. The bed was covered in flowers and letters, sentimental things. What use was that? Haz was dead.

But who on Earth would have stuffed a piece of paper between the floorboards?

Hyde walked into the room and knelt, pulling at it. After a few tries, it slipped out.

It was a thick white envelope, stuffed with papers, with the address “TO GABRIEL UTTERSON” written on the outside in Haz’s messy script.

Staring down at it, at Haz’s handwriting, Hyde was hit with the sudden remembrance of what Haz had done.

Taken the transformation salts.

The all-too-familiar volatile anger started boiling, and Hyde dropped the envelope like it was worthless. Of course it was unlikely that Haz would have left them here, but Hyde didn't care. He cared about very little these days. There wasn't quite enough of that part of his mind left.

He started searching every inch of the room. The problem was, he had forgotten something that Henry would have never forgotten.

Poole was a nearly religious follower of the “if the teacher doesn't show up in 15 minutes, we're legally allowed to leave” rule.

And, true to this, the second the fifteenth minute passed and the professor still hadn’t arrived, Poole smugly wheeled his way back to the apartment.

Of course, since Henry was never around anymore, he didn’t bother announcing his return and just started heading down the hallway towards his room.

But very suddenly, he stopped outside of Haz’s old room. Sounds were coming from the half-closed doorway.

He nudged it open with his foot and looked in. “Henry?”

The next second, the person inside the room looked over to him, made a strangled noise, and whirled away again, reaching the window in two steps. He shoved it open, leaped out, and was gone in another blink of the eye.

Poole stared after him.

It was the last straw. Something was horribly wrong here. He was going to get help.

The only question was, who would he go to? The staff at this school didn’t give a crap about Henry anymore. Haz was gone. Lucy was gone.

The answer was obvious.

Poole began to back out of the room when the piece of paper that Henry- had it been Henry?- had left on the floor caught his eye.

He went forward and, after a few tries, picked it up and looked at it.

“TO GABRIEL UTTERSON”

_ My thoughts exactly,  _ Poole thought, and went to find him.

***

Gabriel was in his room. He wasn't the only one. His apartment living room was chock-full of other students, all yammering away at the top of their lungs. Gabriel himself was sitting in a corner, covering his ears and looking irritated.

With rather more difficulty than he would have liked to admit, Poole made his way into the room. Gabriel, catching sight of him, waved him over.

“We have a problem,” they both told each other at the same time as soon as they were face to face.

Gabriel grinned. “All right, tell me your problem first.”

“I’m worried about Henry,” Poole told him.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Only now?”

“Shut up. Listen, Gabe, we both know there’s something seriously wrong with him at this point.”

And he explained what he had just seen.

Gabriel listened closely, then nodded. “Most of these people actually came by with the same kind of worry about Henry… one has to wonder about why the heck it’s me they want help from.”

“You’re just that kind of person, I guess. Please help.”

Gabriel shrugged. “All right, then. I do agree with you when you say something’s up with him. It’s been bothering me for way too long at this point- it’s time we did something about it.”

“Speaking of which- I found this is Haz’s room. I think it was what Henry was looking for? I don’t know, but it has your name on it.”

Gabriel held out a hand, and Poole gave the letter to him. The other people in the room were starting to quiet down and look over at the two of them.

He opened the letter.

Inside was a second envelope, this time with the words “NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL THE DEATH OR DISAPPEARANCE OF HENRY JEKYLL” written on it in Haz’s writing.

Gabriel made a noise of frustration. There it was again, ‘death or disappearance’, just like how it had been on the will he had just given back to Henry. Half of him wanted to open the letter right now and get through this, find out what was happening, get rid of this whole horrible business once and for all, but something stopped him, namely the loyalty he still had to his friends that were now so distant for two different reasons.

Gabriel had already lost two friends in the last month. He wasn’t going to lose another one.

“Everyone listen up!” he called. The room, already growing softer, fell silent.

“I know you guys are worried about Henry, for Haz’s sake,” he said, trying to calm them. “I am too, so I’ve decided. People have died. I’m going down to his lab, to get him to explain everything he can. This whole thing has gone on long enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule is changing! It's now EVERY SECOND SUNDAY. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with this one better, and if I can update on a Sunday in between, I will. I'll try to keep you guys up to date if anything changes. Happy reading! We're getting near the end now.


	32. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RIP, Henry.
> 
> Trigger warning: Well, if you've been triggered or potentially triggered by any of the warnings in the other chapters, don't read this one. It has it all.

Something was touching him, something was  _ touching him. _

He wasn’t sure of what it was, but it had black strands wrapped around him, holding him in this dark empty place with no walls or floor, keeping him from moving or breathing or thinking. His voice echoed, he was calling for help, was he calling for help? Nothing was certain here. Dark silhouettes of figures all around walked… they ignored his perhaps-voice, or perhaps they didn’t hear?

They were going blurry. Everything was going blurry.

Mocking laughter.

Then, all at once, Henry sat up straight at his lab desk, shaking.

It had been a very long time since he had woken up as himself, he thought, touching his face with one hand. These days, every time he went to sleep, he was plagued with nightmares, and always woke up as Hyde, every time. Why he was still himself right now was beyond him.

In his limited time as himself, he had a lot to think about.

Hyde was taking over his life, and what a life it was. True to his name, Hyde was hiding- not only himself, but Henry along with him. He hated it. All he had wanted to do was give people freedom from themselves, and it had worked, for a while, but eventually it all caved in around him and trapped him and he was nothing anymore… 

Henry pressed his forehead to the desk before him, in this room that had become both his shelter and his prison, shaking.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t do this.

What was there for him to do? The answer was simple- nothing. He had ruined it.

The least he could do was keep the rest of the world from making his mistakes.

His closed journal, his old hopes and dreams, was sitting on the desk in front of him. He reached forward and picked it up.

Some of the earlier pages were wrinkled from having coffee spilled on them. Some were burned in places where chemicals had splashed. They all held optimistic notes about scientific endeavours and experiments he had tried. There were doodles, class notes, joking scribbles from Haz and Poole in the margins. Reminders of when life was happy.

Henry bit his lip and flipped the book to its last pages, gazing down at it. He felt tears begin to gather and he pushed them back, swallowing. The pages here were smeared with ink in places, frantic reassurances to himself telling him that he was still himself, he was still human… 

Was he?

He wasn’t sure.

But he sure as hell was going to do something about it with any tiny bit of remaining willpower he had.

He stared down at the book in front of him, then flipped around until he found a blank page.

Grabbing a pen, he began to write. People were going to know what he had done.

***

More than half a day passed before Gabriel decided to go investigate. By that time, the students had left and Gabriel was once again alone in his room, preparing, reading every bit of evidence he had. Poole, impatient, had gone somewhere else to wait.

As the sun was going down, Gabriel and a frying pan made his way down to the top of the stairs. Poole and the other students were waiting there for him already.

The Rescue Henry Jekyll Committee, plus the honorary frying pan Gabriel was holding as a weapon of sorts, stood at the top of the stairs, looking down into the basement.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Gabriel asked, tightening his grip on the pan.

Poole looked grim, but determined. “It’s the only thing to do.”

“There’s probably a law against it somewhere.”

“It’s for Henry’s own good. Who knows what he might be doing? We’re just checking on him, making sure he’s safe.”

“With a frying pan?”

“We’re making sure he’s safe. If that involves hitting a criminal over the head with a frying pan, we’re still doing it.”

“ _ I’m _ hitting a criminal over the head with a frying pan.  _ You _ get to hang back and keep safe.”

Poole reached up to pat him on the shoulder, smiling sheepishly. “You go down first. I need to send a text to Henry.”

“What about?”

“He’s been emailing me a lot lately. He needs a chemical for something off the internet, but I can never find what he’s talking about. He keeps asking me to look harder or whatever, but I still can’t find anything. Whatever it is, he really wants it.” Poole leaned closer confidentially. “Not to be a conspiracy theorist or anything, but I think he’s either being blackmailed or it’s not him down there at all, it’s  _ someone else.” _

Gabriel gave him a look.

“…I will admit that I totally sound like a conspiracy theorist, but still. It’s possible, not to mention that it might even be likely from what I told you earlier.”

“About Henry-or-someone-like-Henry jumping through the window?” Gabriel asked him dryly.

“Yes, exactly!… Are you making fun of me?”

“No, no, of course not,” Gabriel told him, lying through his teeth. “Anyway, wish me luck.”

“Good luck. Make sure Henry’s alive, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel took a deep breath and started heading down.

Poole watched him go, biting his lip, then pulled out his phone and started typing.

There seemed to be more stairs than before. They just kept going. It gave Gabriel some time to think.

The more he thought about Poole’s crazy plan, the more it made sense. Poole had described a ‘sort of gross’ feeling upon seeing the whoever-it-was, and from what Gabriel knew of Hyde, that lined up. The only whoever-it-was it could be was Hyde himself, anyone could see that.

He reached the bottom stair, then, with another deep breath, headed for Henry’s lab room.

The buzzing of the weak fluorescent light was the first thing he noticed. None of the other lights were on, just the one dully flickering strip of white along the ceiling inside the room and shining through the door.

The second thing he noticed was the horrible, tortured scream.

Gabriel froze, then ran to the door of the lab and hammered on it. “Henry!?”

Through the glass in the door, he could see a figure with its back turned, bent over in apparent pain, holding a bottle. Just as he called Henry’s name, the figure whirled back to look through the door at Gabriel’s panicked face, and it was indeed the wide-eyed face of Henry Jekyll.

The bottle was empty, and almost in slow motion, Gabriel watched it drop to the ground and splinter into a million spears of silver.

The look on Henry’s face went from terror to calmness, maybe even with a hint of a smile.

_ I’m sorry, _ he seemed to say.

All at once, his features contorted- writhed- and Henry gasped weakly for air just once before the person standing inside the room was no longer Henry.

Gabriel froze. The floor spun. Henry Jekyll was Edward Hyde.

He went through the five stages of grief about eight times in the span of two seconds, then Hyde gave another horrible scream and lunged for the door.

Gabriel jerked back, eyes wide, but the madman never reached him. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground halfway there, but the fall didn’t prevent him from dragging himself forwards, a horrible deranged snarl on his face.

He never made it to the door.

At first, Hyde’s eyes were still wide and furious, his expression locked in an expression of disgust. Not even two seconds after, the disgust began to fade in a very Henryish way, going through denial and fear and pleading to something approaching sorrow.

The eyes went glassy.

Gabriel stared down at him for a split second, then came back to his senses with a jerk and began hammering on the locked door.

“Gabriel?” an adult voice called in a panic, and Guest, bringing Poole, emerged from the stairwell. “What's-”

Gabriel didn't even turn to look. His throat was slowly going hoarse for some reason, and who was that screaming Henry's name? They should stop, he wasn't there anymore.

He had been screaming. He listened to his own voice scratch its way from screams to broken sobbing. He had slid down the door and was kneeling before it, like he was praying, begging, but Henry was gone.

Henry Jekyll was gone, without even the faintest trace in the dead murderer’s eyes that he had ever existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw the update schedule. This is the second-last chapter anyway.
> 
> I'm super glad that you've all stuck with me until this point! Sometime later this month the final chapter will go up and Duality will be all wrapped up. I have another fanfic in mind, so check back in a few months to see if I've begun work on it. Thank you so much and happy (or not-so-happy) reading!


	33. Henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short epilogue chapter. Gabriel reflects, Henry says goodbye.

They took his body away.

Someone patted Gabriel on the shoulder and told him that it was going to be okay, but it blended in with the buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

He stepped into the room where his best friend had died, his body moving, but his mind a thousand miles away. Someone stepped up to try and stop him, though his voice, like the others, faded away. Gabriel ignored him.

A familiar journal lay on the floor.

Gabriel knelt, picked it up,  and flipped through it.

_ Hyde is me, but not me. _

This one entry was an island of sanity within the manic scrawl that filled the later half of his journal, claims that he was still human, reassurances to his delirious mind that Hyde could still be controlled or destroyed. As Gabriel read, he could nearly see his closest friend sitting at that table, could nearly hear the words in his voice.

_ At this point, when I’m still myself, I can’t help but to be occupied with him every second of my life. I can’t do anything else. He’s taken over me, and I can’t do anything without thinking about the consequences, and all the consequences involve Hyde. Nothing really makes sense anymore. _

_ I tried to prove that man is not one, but two. I was wrong. Man is neither one nor two, but thousands. We're each like so many stars in the sky, and isolating these stars is worthless in the end. We  _ are _ our masks, not hurt by them, and each one fits to the next one like a piece of a puzzle, and all these masks together make us who we are. Humans as they are are so amazing… I couldn't see that. Why couldn't I see that? _

_ I made mistakes. I won't deny that. I made so many mistakes while I was searching for the truth, and in the end, I didn’t find it. But while making my mistakes, I found other truths. I’m writing them down so maybe, someday, we can remember them. _

_ Somewhere along the path of the human race, we forgot what it was to be human. We forgot to stop and smell the flowers, and give each other hugs in the morning, and sleep out under the stars… _

_ I was going to write more, but I can't remember what. I think my time’s up. It’s okay. _

_ Tell my Mum I love her and miss her very much. _

_ Don't mourn me, mourn the person I was. _

Lying alongside the journal was another folded sheaf of paper. Gabriel silently opened it.

Inside was the will, and a phone. Its password had been taken off, and the only data left upon it was a single folder of photos. Said photos were mostly Poole’s blurry selfies, shots of Haz’s butt (taken by Haz), and reactions to the many puns that Gabriel had kept making.

The memories hurt. They must have hurt him, too, so much that he couldn't bear to let them go.

He turned to the will and found it identical to how it had been, but no. One thing was different, and the name Edward Hyde had been changed to Gabriel Utterson.

Gabriel gazed down at it for a long moment, then stood again. He was silent, but then again there really wasn't much to say. His friend was gone. The only thing to do now was fulfill his last request and tell people to never repeat his mistakes.

He had a lot of writing to do.

Gabriel Utterson turned to the door, let the journal fall from his hands, and walked away from the room in which Henry Jekyll had died.

Not once did he look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me till the last chapter! Keep a look out for my next big project, coming soon :)


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